The Trees Remember
by arainymonday
Summary: In 1942, in the midst of WWII, the Valar sent four Elves into Arda to investigate the mysterious disappearance of the Maiar. Their quest leads them to the center of the European conflict.
1. The New World

******Disclaimer:** I'm just playing in the Middle-earth sandbox. If you recognize it from elsewhere, I don't own it.

**Author's Note:** In order to understand this story, you must first understand my general theories on two topics. Firstly, to my knowledge, very few Silvan Elves ever sailed to Valinor. I list reasons for this in Chapter 1. Secondly, I have created a family for Legolas in my imagination. He is Thranduil's youngest son, and therefore, not likely to become King of Eryn Lasgalen. His mother's name is Adonniel, and at the time that Legolas sailed for Valinor, she was alive and well in Eryn Lasgalen.

A big THANK YOU to my Betas, past and present: Annie, Clara, SML, and both Vickies! Thanks a million ladies!

* * *

**The Trees Remember**

**Prologue**

"**The New World"**

It seemed that the End of Days was near.

The world that the Valar had shaped was no more. The lands had changed with famines, floods, and earthquakes. Entire mountain ranges had plunged into the depths of the sea, lands were lost amid the rising oceans, and rivers changed their courses.

Magic disappeared from the world. The Ents stood still, turned to trees by despair. The forests fell beneath the axes of Men, and their wood fired the forges to make weapons for war. Wars wreaked havoc on the people of the world until the race of Men fell into the pitiful oblivion of nomadic life.

Some survived. The strong-hearted and valiant men of the line of Aragorn Elessar endured. They defended the remaining lands of Gondor with their lives while all other nations crumbled under the weight of oppression. The stories of Beren and Aragorn were not lost to these men, but they were few in number. When the realm of Gondor rose in glory again, its name became Rome. For a while, the Romans ruled the Earth.

Most men forgot their pasts. For some, this was good. The Easterlings and Southrons rose above the evil of their ancestors. Their tribes united under one banner, and they created a vast and powerful empire in the East.

The men of Rohan fell. Their lands lay in waste by the ravaging of war, and these men grew angry. They forgot the history of Rohan, their noble roots, and their Oath of friendship to Gondor. These men called themselves the Goths, Visigoths, and Vandals. They lurked through the forests of Northern Gondor, ever seeking to sack the wealth of Rome. The Romans called them the Barbarians.

They destroyed the Roman Empire, and claimed all those lands as their own. Only the men of Aragorn remembered the Oath between Rohan and Gondor. Those men would not fight their ancient allies, and the Empire shunned them as cowards. They fled into the North, and lived as peaceful tribal people in the land now called Finland.

The men of Rohan spread over the west, and their influence was infinite. Their language, their culture, and their blood replaced in supremacy that of Rome. They called themselves Anglo-Saxon. Under their influence, the peoples of the world changed.

Only the tribes in Finland now remembered the ancient past.

The last of the willing Elves departed Middle-earth in the year that men now date 3000 B.C. But some elves would not forsake Middle-earth. They remained connected to the land, inseparable from the trees. They lived as shadows in the forest, never appearing among Men for they feared the brutality of the Anglo-Saxons. Some retreated to Finland to live among the men of Aragorn. Others resisted, and remained in their ancient homes in Rhovanion.

Those elves suffered greatly for their choice. Men had grown fearful of magic, and they believed the elves to be demons lurking in the woods. The forests were burned, and many Elves suffered captivity and torture. The few who escaped to Finland were forever changed. No longer did they sing merry songs under the stars or whisper to the trees. They were stern and solemn. In their hearts, they hated Men.

The Valar never forgot about the lands they created. They sent their Maiar across the Barrier of the two realms. Those brave Maiar floated through the world unrecognized by Men. They whispered knowledge to the warmongers, the clergymen, and the scientists. Slowly, the peoples of the world changed again.

As the Sixth Age of Arda came to its close, the old ways of Gondor seemed restored. Men had become civil; some even claiming war was abhorrent. The men of Aragorn were free to return into the world. With them came the Elves. They walked disguised, ever wary of Men, yet unable to remain hidden in Finland forever.

Though the machines of industry and war forever marred the world, the Maiar were now free to return to Valinor. Yet, when they attempted to return to their immortal home, they found that their powers failed them, and they could not cross the Barrier. The Valar sent more Maiar. Yet they also found that once they crossed the Barrier into the realm of Arda, they could no longer return to Valinor.

The next wave of evil had swept over Middle-earth, and the servants of the Valar were unable to alert their masters.

It was 1942 and just as He had planned it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**About the passage of time: **"I imagine the gap from the downfall of Barad-dûr to the present to be about 6000 years: that is we are now at the end of the Fifth Age, if the Ages were of about the same length as S.A. and T.A. But they have, I think, quickened; and I imagine we are actually at the end of the Sixth Age, or in the Seventh." Letters, 283 (#211)

Thanks to Ellisk for this research

I changed the time lapse to 5,000 years for historical accuracy. However, that number should not be thought of as concrete. 4,700 and 5,200 are practically the same when one thinks about the age of the Earth. This story is told from the perspective of the Elves. Time is relative for them, especially since arriving in Valinor.

3000 B.C. 120 Fourth Age, death of Aragorn Elessar. The tribes of Mesopotamia join together to form the Sumerian society. This is very close to the beginning of known human civilization.

**About the downfall of the Rohirrim: **"I have not made any of the peoples on the 'right' side, Hobbits, Rohirrim, Men of Dale or of Gondor, any better than men have been or are, or can be. Mine is not an 'imaginary' world, but an imaginary historical moment on 'Middle-earth' - which is our habitation." Letters, 244 (#183)

Again, Thanks to Ellisk


	2. Into the East

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter One**

"**Into the East"**

The noonday sun glinted brightly on the silver steps leading to the mansion. Legolas shielded his eyes from the glare and continued to follow Haldir up the winding steps. Memories of Lothlórien came to him every time he visited this particular home. Whether it was the impending conversation with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel or the march warden leading the way, Legolas could not be sure. Even in the center of the Noldorin city of Tirion, Legolas felt as if he were back in the Golden Wood with the Fellowship.

It was at those times that he missed his mortal friends the most. His eyes drifted to the East. Far away, on Tol Eressëa, lay Gimli's final resting place. Beside his tomb lay the burial mounds of Frodo, Samwise, and Bilbo. Even further East, across the sea in Middle-earth, was Aragorn, Merry, and Pippin's tomb in Rath Dínen.

The wood-elf turned back to the silver home of Celeborn and Galadriel. As Haldir approached the front entrance, Rúmil pulled back the door.

A number of Elves had already gathered in the main living area. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel sat at the head of the room, and beside them were Lord Elrond and his sons Elladan and Elrohir. Lord Círdan sat beside the two remaining Istari, Olórin the White and Radagast the Gray. Legolas was surprised to see Ingwë, King of all Elves, in attendance. Eönwë, herald of Manwë, also joined the elven council. Legolas greeted everyone, and then took his usual place in the council chamber.

"Haldir," Galadriel said.

The march warden had turned to exit the room, but the Lady now motioned for him to sit beside Legolas. He did as she requested, though with some confusion. The Elves and three Maiar seated in the chamber were highly respected leaders among the Elves. He was merely a march warden.

"You have been called here today by the council of Lord Ulmo," King Ingwë began, "As you know, the Lord of the Waters has never forsaken Arda. He has brought word to Lord Círdan and Lord Manwë that something stirs in Middle-earth."

When the King nodded to him, Círdan relayed the message Ulmo had brought to him. "I stood alone on the shore, not four days past, for I thought I saw something that I could not have. I saw a storm cloud over Valinor."

He gave the Elves a moment to let this information settle.

"As I stood looking at the sky, Lord Ulmo appeared from the water in his frightful and majestic form. He said to me this, 'Now is the time for the Teleri to build their ships. Build not for pleasure as you have all these long millennia. Build now for strength and endurance. A tide of evil has swept Arda. I know not what it is, but I know that Men cannot defeat it.' I asked him if we were to return to Middle-earth to fight this evil. He replied to me, 'That is not a decision for me to make. I go now to the King of the Earth. Be you prepared for his rule.' Then, he was gone."

Gandalf nodded, "The Valar met two days ago. Eönwë and I were present. Manwë has made his decision, and that is why we are here. There was more to Lord Ulmo's tale than what he said to Círdan. The Lord of the Waters sought answers himself, and that is why he did not say all he knew. The River-daughters have fallen silent and Ossë has disappeared. Only by chance did Ulmo learn of this new evil for he went searching for his Maiar helpers. Into the rivers he drifted, and that is how he came to know of new evil afoot in Arda."

"It is not unheard of for Maiar to disappear and then resurface later," Elrond said, "You should know that Mithrandir."

The wizard laughed softly. "Yes, Lord Elrond, I do know that very well. However, Yavanna has also noticed that her Maiar are strangely distant to her, and Arien has reported that she no longer sees her friends from her high perch in the sky."

"If there is some evil in Middle-earth that can defeat Maiar spirits, how then can we do any better?" Celeborn questioned.

"You do not have to do better," Eönwë stated, "If you can discover this evil, the Valar can defeat it."

"The Valar are willing to return to Arda, and to send Elves to Middle-earth?" Ingwë asked, incredulously, "I do not wish to bring up ancient history, but I must. Allowing the Noldor to leave caused more problems in Arda than it fixed."

The King of the Elves cast an apologetic look towards Galadriel. He had nothing personally against the Lady for her only wrong had lain in departing Valinor.

"This fight now belongs to the Ainur," Gandalf stated, "Our own order are disappearing. We Maiar may be lesser than the Valar, but we sprung from the same mind and together we created Arda. No Vala or Maia has ever fully turned his or her back on the world of Men."

"What does Manwë advise?" Elrond asked.

"He wishes for a small number of Elves to return to Middle-earth and discover the source of this evil. They are then to return immediately," Eönwë stated.

"I do not wish to speak against Manwë," Ingwë began, "But we have long known that the Maiar are not returning from Middle-earth. Perhaps, Elves who cross the Barrier also cannot return. I would not eagerly desert Elves in the realm of Arda."

"Who is to help these Elves discover this evil?" Celeborn questioned, "The world of Men will certainly have changed. When the Vanyar returned to Arda at the end of the First Age, we could not communicate with them. If the Elvish language can so splinter in an Age, we must think how the tongues of men have changed in five thousand years."

"Not all Elves have come to Valinor," Legolas stated.

He was reluctant to voice his opinion to so many great lords for Legolas had never felt like a Prince. Yet, he rarely went even one day without his thoughts turning to his family and subjects who had remained behind in Middle-earth. Lady Galadriel looked at him with sad eyes.

"Those Elves will have changed," she said, gently, "If still they live in Arda."

"Then the Men of Númenor will aid us," Elladan interjected, "We will not have been forgotten by them. The union of Aragorn and Arwen restored and strengthened the line of Elros. In Eldarion was the blood of Númenor and Elf-kind. Surely, that will not have died out."

"Five millennia have passed," Elrond sighed, shaking his head, "We cannot say if there will be anyone at all to help those Elves who travel into Arda."

"Manwë has spoken," Eönwë stated, firmly, "He will not force the Eldar to agree, but neither will he allow the Maiar to disappear in Arda."

The council grew quiet. The right to decide belonged to King Ingwë.

"I will not permit any Vanyar to go," Ingwë stated, "Nor shall any be forced to go. Would Manwë agree to send only four?"

Eönwë nodded. "He would agree."

"Then so be it. Four Elves may volunteer to return to Middle-earth. I assume you will be going with them, Olórin."

The wizard shook his head. "I am not permitted to leave the Blessed Realm. No Maiar may cross the Barrier until this threat exists no longer. I am sorry to say that the Elves who go do so without my aid."

"Then who will go?" Ingwë asked.

"I will go," Legolas said.

"As will we," Elrohir added, nodding to his brother.

Galadriel nodded to Haldir. The march warden hesitated for a moment. The Lady had known this would be the decision the Council made. He bowed slightly to her.

"I will go also."

As the other Elves slowly dispersed, Haldir remained in his Lord's house. Galadriel led him outside silently. They walked over a lawn of tall grass before coming to a small pool. There, the Mirror of Galadriel stood on the same stone pedestal as it had in the Golden Wood. The Lady held in her hand a silver pitcher.

"Whatever you think you may find in Arda will not be there," she said. Slowly, she poured the water from the pool into the basin. "Will you look into the mirror?"

Haldir nodded once. He secretly had always wanted to get a glimpse of something in her magical mirror, but one did not ask Galadriel for this privilege. She must offer it. The march warden stepped forward to the mirror.

His reflection rippled in the water, slowly evening as the water calmed. Though the water did not move, a swirl of colors converged beneath the glassy surface to create an image of the council just held. Haldir watched himself volunteer for the mission at the request of Lady Galadriel. The image blurred and rippled, morphing into yet another picture. Haldir saw the image of Arwen Evenstar gazing at him. She turned, scanning the distance. Haldir could not shake the feeling that she was searching for him, but that was not possible. The Evenstar passed beyond the circles of the world long ago, and she had never sought out Haldir, even during her stays in Lothlórien. The final image he saw was of a young man sleeping in the Golden Wood. The picture faded away quickly, leaving behind only rippling water.

He looked up at the Lady. "I saw only things that have been."

Galadriel nodded, but a light sparkled in her eyes that told Haldir he misinterpreted the images.

"You will understand, Haldir. Very soon, you will know what it was you saw."

* * *

Legolas stepped onto the silver street of Tirion and turned east. His mind was distracted, but his feet knew the way home. He had made this journey from Tirion to Tol Eressëa thousands of times.

Middle-earth. Legolas longed to see those lands again. It called to him, as the sea had called him to Valinor so many long years before. The half-Silvan side of him longed to walk the lands of Middle-earth again. He had never been fully comfortable with his decision to come to Valinor. There were few Silvan Elves in the Blessed Realm. Only Haldir, his brothers, and a handful of Elves from the Golden Wood had sailed West. Most of the Lord and Lady's subjects had remained in Middle-earth, for the Silvan Elves loved the earth too much to depart from it.

The possibility that Legolas could again see some of his kindred had made him volunteer for the mission despite the obvious risk. As Galadriel had said, there might be no Elves left in Arda. Even if he found no Elves, Legolas longed to see the realms of Middle-earth. He thought that perhaps he could visit Rath Dínen and Lothlórien to pay his respects to Aragorn and Arwen. He could go to Eryn Lasgalen to see the halls of his father one last time. He had not done so before he and Gimli left Gondor.

He came to the coast much sooner than he expected. A Teleri elf waited in a gray ship for Legolas to return. That elf, Elmhir, was lying in the boat asleep. Legolas chuckled softly. Elmhir's only job was to ferry Elves from Tol Eressëa to the coast of Valinor and back. He took a nap on each beach as if rowing the distance was a terribly strenuous task. Every one of his passengers had to row himself on the return journey.

* * *

"You should practice more," Elrohir laughed.

Elladan scowled at his brother as he inspected his hand. Everything seemed to be fine despite the blow from the hilt of Elrohir's sword.

"There is no need to injure me," he grumbled.

The younger twin shrugged. "Shall we renew your archery skills, then?"

Elladan gaped at his brother. "I beg your pardon? Renew? I have never lost my skills, brother, but if you have, I would gladly give you a lesson."

"I meant only that since you have always been lacking in archery, perhaps you should practice," Elrohir replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Elladan dropped his sword and lunged at his twin. They tumbled around the grass, wrestling fiercely. Their antics came to an abrupt halt as they crashed into the legs of another elf standing on the lawn. Elrond stumbled backwards, but managed to regain his balance before he fell. A teasing smile lifted the corners of his lips.

"That is an interesting greeting. One that I have not received since you were very young."

His sons stood from the ground, both breathing hard and smiling. Elrond shook his head and grinned. His sons were fierce warriors, yet behaved like elflings outside of battle. They had only become worse since coming to Valinor. There were no dangers in the Blessed Realm, and that gave the twins plenty of spare time.

"Have you come to challenge the winner?" Elrohir asked, "That would be me, of course."

Elrond seized his younger son's weapon from his hand and held the sword at his throat.

"Why? Could you best me?"

Elladan tossed Elrohir his sword. Father and son sparred across the lawn.

"Be on your guard," Elrond said, lowering his sword, "We do not know what the world has become. I am certain that the blood of Númenor is extinct. You will find few friends."

The brothers listened solemnly, all thoughts of fun and jousting now gone. Their father would not say it, but they heard his unspoken thoughts. "Please, return to me safely. You are all I have not lost."

* * *

"Everything has been prepared for you. We stocked provisions of dried food and water. Galadriel's handmaidens brought lembas this morning. We also saw fit to add a few spare weapons and a basket of arrows. Just in case," Círdan said, "We call this ship Autë."

Elladan smiled, "And may it be. Thank you, Lord Círdan."

The gray ship bobbed in the harbor, waiting for its journey. Not many ships had left the Bay of Eldamar for more than a trip up the coastline in many, many millennia. The Teleri had built thousands of ships. They experimented with different styles, woods, and sails. It was ironic to them that the ship they built specifically for this mission was exactly the kind of ship they had built in the Third Age for the Elves making the journey West.

On the wharf, the four Elves that had volunteered for this dangerous mission had gathered. They were ancient friends, from their days together in Middle-earth. The quartet was the younger Elves in Middle-earth. They were Rangers, trackers, warriors, and march wardens, and this was not their first journey into a seemingly hopeless situation, for they had all served in the War of the Ring. Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir rode to Morannon with Aragorn. Haldir had fought on the very doorstep of Dol Guldur.

Elrond and Celebrían stood with Elladan and Elrohir. They did not want their sons to leave, but they knew it was hopeless asking them to stay. Their hearts had always remained partly with Arda. They were half-Elven and strongly connected to their Númenórean kin. Haldir's brothers sent him off with high spirits. They had faced many battles and unknowns together, but all three had arrived safely in Valinor. They had no fears that Haldir would not return.

Gandalf approached the Elves. Never had he sent his friends into a mission so perilous alone, and he did not wish to do so now. He had even dared to challenge Manwë in the Council of the Valar, but to no avail. Olórin was the mightiest among the Maiar in wisdom, and Manwë would not risk his loss.

"Well, my friends," he began, "This is farewell for now. I have done all that I can to aid you. You are now on your own, but in body only." The wizard handed Elladan a brown parchment rolled into a scroll. "Use this at only greatest need, but use it if you must."

Written in Gandalf's unsteady hand were enchantments the wizard had long ago committed to memory for they were basic and harmless spells. He held out a second scroll to Elrohir.

"That is a map of your destination. I have learned all I can from Arien, but she does not watch Arda closely. The map is vague to say the least, but perhaps it may guide you in some way I cannot know."

Gandalf spoke truly. The map showed two vast bodies of land on opposite sides of an ocean. The coastlines of the landmasses were essentially straight lines and only four cities appeared on the map, two on each continent, but they were without names. Drawn across the northern area of the map was a thin red line. It was the Barrier.

The Elves boarded the ship with one final farewell to their family and friends. Only Gandalf knew what the journey east was like because he had taken that route many times. The Elves, however, could only guess it would be like their journey West. On the shore, the Teleri sang a song of parting as the ship left the harbor.

The journey to Middle-earth took two weeks. The Teleri had built a larger ship than four Elves needed, but it provided them with ample comfort. On the journey West, the Barrier had proved a formidable opponent for all mariners. The climate became chill, and the winds howled furiously. The frigid gray water churned violently and whipped the gray ships at its will. Any ship not of Elven-craft would have sunk in the inhospitable sea. Just as panic had begun to set upon the Elves, the had sea calmed, the wind had ceased, and the first of the Enchanted Isles had appeared.

The voyage back to Arda was the same, but in reverse. The turbulent sea set upon the Elves unexpectedly, but the Barrier was less harsh than they remembered. Once the Barrier was crossed, the weather turned favorable again. A cool breeze inflated the sail, and guided the ship. The weather was not as they remembered the climate of Middle-earth.

Elrohir stood on the deck, surveying the map Gandalf had given him. The Barrier extended beyond the ocean and over the two giant landmasses. It appeared that in the changing of the world Arda had shifted north. Elrohir did not want to imagine facing the Barrier on land.

"Valinor is closer to the western lands," Elrohir stated.

"Can you guess at when we will arrive?" Haldir questioned.

The Elves gathered around the map. Though it was vague, the perfectly drawn island of Valinor provided some context. It was twice as close to the western lands as the eastern, yet distance was impossible to judge.

"We are one day south of the Barrier," Elladan stated, pointing to the map with his finger, "If we sailed from Valinor directly south, we would be perhaps two days from the coast."

"But, the Barrier may have set us off course," Legolas added.

"Then I guess we have our answer," Elrohir stated.

The other three Elves waited expectantly.

"Soon."


	3. Along the Journey

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Two**

"**Along the Journey"**

Haldir spotted the distant coastline one day later. Towering gray cliffs and leafless beech trees covered in melting snow welcomed the Elves to Arda.

"This is a good sign," Legolas smiled. "We have come in spring and have seen first a beech tree, most beloved by the wood-elves."

The three others agreed happily. They steadily approached the cliffs, and their joy increased with each league they drew closer. The feet of the cliff stretched into the sea, forming natural docks of rock. Legolas tied Autë securely to a boulder solidly embedded in the rocky sand of the beach while Haldir and the sons of Elrond unloaded the ship. They wrapped their gray Elven cloaks tight around themselves and shouldered their packs.

The cliffs were far taller than they had seemed from afar and there appeared to be no way up except by scaling the heights. Many ledges protruded from the jagged rock face. Some were small enough for hands and feet while others were large enough for a grown Elf to sit on for a rest.

"It has been many years, but we have all climbed treacherous passes in the Misty Mountains," Elladan said.

"I will accept your offer to go first," Elrohir stated.

Elladan shook his head at his twin, and tossed the gray rope to him.

"I will signal for you to throw it when I find an acceptable outcropping."

They began the arduous task of scaling the heights of the cliffs with Elladan leading the way. The cliffs seemed made for climbing, so perfect were the handholds. The Elves accepted their good fortune without question.

The land atop the cliff was breathtaking. It appeared that Arda had not changed at all since the departure of the Elves. A flat plain stretched for many leagues in all directions. At the end of that plain, a large copse of beech trees stretched across the horizon. Though they were bare, they were tall and strong. The crisp aroma of spring scented the air, and a fresh layer of clean white snow covered the ground. Above them, seagulls soared through the air.

"Shall we continue?" Haldir asked, beginning to walk for the trees.

The others fell in line behind him, surveying Arda. It felt as if they had stepped into the ancient lands of Arnor somewhere between Mithlond and the Shire. They covered the distance between the cliffs and the woods as the sun sank rapidly behind them.

They agreed to make camp in the woods that night. There were not many woodland creatures to hunt early in spring, so they sat down to a dinner of lembas. Just as they were beginning to settle in for the night, a strange noise echoed through the trees.

It sounded like wind swirling upon the open sea, yet also distinctly like metal slapping together. The Elves doused the fire, drew their bows, and crept towards the sound. Their exploration led them to the edge of the forest. The woods were twice as long as wide, giving them the appearance of being rather large. A steep incline led to a path, and on the other side were more trees.

The sound of wind and metal approached steadily, growing louder as it did. The Elves stepped onto the path, peering into the distance, but seeing nothing. Suddenly, two blinding lights appeared in front of them. They turned away, shielding their eyes. A shrill shriek filled the air, and a loud horn rang out. The offensive lights swerved dangerously on the path before passing on as only two points of red light.

"That was an Orc horn," Haldir called, nocking an arrow. "It is a servant of the enemy."

Legolas and the sons of Elrond joined his efforts, but the enemy disappeared around a bend in the path before they could loose their arrows. They dejectedly returned the arrows to their quivers, and trudged back to their camp.

"We will continue on tomorrow," Elladan said. "We should keep off the path. It is being watched by the enemy."

The Elves departed from their campsite early the following morning. They crossed the path separating the two copses of trees with caution. They heard nothing on the road, but continued forward with speed.

"I have never seen a path such as that," Haldir said, glancing back.

"Neither have I," Legolas agreed. "Perhaps it is a dwarven road. It was stone, was it not?"

The twins shrugged. They had never seen such a thing either.

Like the first patch of trees, this new grouping was long and narrow. It took them only an hour to reach the edge of the woods. A flat plain spread out before them, and very close to the trees was a small farmstead. Many buildings sat on the property, but the Elves knew the use of only two of them, the farmer's home and the stables.

In the field between the trees and stables, horses ran within the confines of a fence. In a second field, cows grazed lazily beside sheep on whatever grass they could find. A single human female walked through the farm, carrying in her hand a basket full of eggs.

"Perhaps we could buy horses," Elrohir suggested. "They would make for faster travel."

"What if we have need of crossing the sea that separates the lands of Arda?" Haldir asked. "If we travel too far south, we will waste precious time."

They considered his argument for a moment.

"We must find someone who knows these lands well," Elladan said. "If this farmer does not, we should buy horses from him and find another man who will know how to aid us in our quest."

The idea seemed agreeable. They moved from the clearing of trees towards the farmhouse. They were barely halfway through the horse pasture when a man came running from the house. He shouted at them and carried in his hand a strange object. It was long and cylindrical, made of black metal. Legolas guessed it was steel but the wood-elves had little experience in metalwork.

"He seems angry," Haldir said.

He reached for his bow, but Elladan stopped him.

"We need his help. We cannot threaten him."

The march warden grudgingly released the bowstring. He was sure the object the man carried was a weapon, but did not speak against Elladan. The farmer and Elves met at the gate.

"Mae govannen," Elladan said, bowing slightly to the man. "We are seeking the men of Númenor or the Silvan kindred of the Eldar. Have you the knowledge to guide us to them?"

The man stared at him with obvious confusion. He leaned against his tall weapon, shaking his head. He responded in a language the Elves had never heard. They exchanged worried glances. Elladan tried again, this time in Westron.

"Forgive me, good man. I did not know you spoke not the Elvish language."

The man shook his head again. He heard the shift in language, but he still did not understand the words. He answered again in the same unfathomable tongue. Legolas thought he heard Rohirric within the man's language, but it was so changed he could not make it out. Long ago, Lady Éowyn had taught him this language when they lived as neighbors in Ithilien. Legolas tried speaking in the language of Rohan.

"If you do not know the men of Númenor nor the Silvan Elves, we wish to buy some horses from you."

The man shrugged, understanding that language even less. He repeated one word several times; 'English,' but the Elves could not guess what that meant. Finally, they resorted to the only way they knew to communicate with him. Elrohir pointed to the horses.

The man shook his head vigorously. Then, Haldir showed him six gold coins. The farmer took one of the pieces and bit down on it. His eyes lit with wonder, and he motioned for the Elves to follow him. He led them to the stables where nearly thirty horses stood in their stalls. He spread his arms wide, inviting them to choose their horses.

"I have never seen horses of this breed," Legolas said, surveying the animals. "They are neither Elvish horses nor steeds of Rohan."

The farmer watched in awe as the strangers passed from stall to stall. They stopped at every one, whispering to the horses in their foreign tongue. Jeremiah had been skeptical when he saw the four men walking across his pasture. They were dressed very strangely, like illustrations of Robin Hood. One of them even wore silver armor. All of his suspicions fell away when he saw them with his horses. Their voices were musical, almost like a song. All the horses responded with snorts, stamps, and neighs at the breaks in their language, as if they communicated with the strangers.

To his surprise, they chose the four most stubborn horses Jeremiah owned. He had tried countless times to sell the animals, but no one within six counties wanted anything to do with the wild stallions. The farmer approached Haldir and held out the coins to him. The march warden refused, but the man insisted. He looked bewildered, as if he had just had an epiphany about the meaning of life.

Jeremiah felt as if some secret knowledge had been passed to him, yet remained hidden from the rest of the world. Somehow, he knew no one would believe him if he told them about the strangers. That seemed to be for the best.

"We will return them if we may," Haldir said.

The man nodded, as if he understood, yet he had not.

"He was a noble man, but not of Númenor," Elrohir said, sighing. "It was too much to hope for such good fortune to continue."

The Elves traveled south for five days. The lands they crossed were mainly flat and naturally barren. They remained off the road, but parallel to it. The second sighting of the enemy with bright lights and an Orc horn revealed the strange mechanics of the machine to them. Firstly, it was metal and resembled a cart, though no horse pulled it. Secondly, a man operated the machine from inside the contraption. The man paid no attention to the four Elves astride their horses, but they remained wary.

The rocky soil gradually turned to silt the farther south they traveled. Empty fields that would soon be full of crops lined the road. The number and size of towns also increased farther south. Finally, at the end of the fifth day, the Elves saw their greatest hope of finding aid, yet the discovery broke their immortal hearts.

A city spread for leagues all around them. It was easily ten times the size of Minas Tirith. Many buildings stood twice the height of the Tower of Ecthelion, yet held none of its majesty. Black fumes belched from tall towers and clogged the air with soot and ash. The metal carts rushed through the streets, sounding their Orc horns, and swerving about at dangerous speeds. In the harbor, massive black metal ships sounded obnoxious horns as they arrived and departed. Underneath their feet, the Elves felt a low rumbling every few minutes. Legolas thought it sounded like a balrog. He prayed it was not.

"This looks like Mordor," Elrohir whispered.

"What have men done to this world?" Haldir questioned. "I do not see a single tree."

"These are not men of Númenor," Elladan said, sadly. "I do not sense it in any of them."

"We should find shelter," Legolas said. "The air is damp."

The others agreed, and they began their long, melancholy walk to find shelter in this metal city. If anyone noticed the four Elves speaking a foreign tongue, dressed in archaic clothing, with bows and swords, leading horses, they did not mention it. The Elves passed through the city unnoticed. It was that fact that discouraged them the most. This place was no longer Middle-earth where silent reverence accompanied a sighting of Elves in a city of Men.

Before the Elves found a place to rest for the night, it began to rain. The gray city looked absolutely dismal caught in a thunderstorm. Even the rain was different. I tasted metallic, and it left behind a musty scent. As people ran to overhangs for shelter, the Elves walked slowly through the street.

"How is it possible to taint the rain?" Haldir asked, looking up to the sky.

"Do you think that is an inn?"

Elrohir motioned across the street to a large, gray building. A single man worked in front of the entrance loading colorful bags and boxes onto a trolley. The Elves were hesitant to enter the establishment. The entire city seemed unfriendly, unlike the lands to the North.

* * *

Elaine gazed out the window. Rain splattered on the glass and trickled down in winding paths. It had rained nearly everyday for two weeks. The weather utterly ruined her trip to Boston. She sighed, and turned her eyes back to the papers on the table in front of her. She chided herself silently. She was not on vacation, but it sure felt like it. She rarely spent a moment away from Washington, D.C. since the people of Oregon had elected her candidate to the U.S. Senate.

Thatcher Greenwood was her candidate. She had personally designed his campaign, his image, and his platform. Now, she found herself writing his legislation, speeches, and press releases. Of course, Senator Greenwood did his share. He was very capable of handling all matters of state; however, the demands of being a public figure limited the time he could devote to work.

Elaine's eyes drifted over the legal papers lying on her desk. The good people of Oregon had decided that Senator Greenwood's vote to join the war effort was out of line with his campaign promises. She let out a frustrated growl as she reread the their complaints.

She could not imagine an American not wanting to join the war. Then again, the American citizens did not have all the information the government did. Elaine was on the inside of the government. She read every telegraph the Germans sent and every document the FBI had on file. She knew what was happening in Germany.

She cursed the name of Hitler. The man was committing genocide, and no one was lifting a finger to stop him. Thatcher had campaigned for America to join the war at the start, but the Republicans scoffed at him. His fellow Democrats agreed in private, but did not support him openly. Even President Roosevelt had asked him to calm his fervor.

Elaine chuckled softly. Roosevelt had called him a War Hawk, and Thatcher had nearly punched the President of the United States. He had complied to the President's request; however, and supported the war only from the privacy of his office. Now, Elaine was in the middle of an open letter to Thatcher's constituents who seemed to forget that their Senator had wanted to join the war in '39.

All thoughts of neutrality had been abandoned when Pearl Harbor was attacked. She sighed sadly, thinking of that day. She had been the one to bring the news to Thatcher. He did not charge into the Oval Office and proclaim he had known it would happen, nor did he curse the Japanese. He had simply sighed deeply and nodded.

"This is the last great battle of our time, Elaine. Soon, it will all end for us."

The statement had sounded odd to the other staff aids in the room, but Elaine had understood it perfectly.

The sound of the telephone startled Elaine from her thoughts. She cursed under her breath as she looked at the letter to the people of Oregon. She wasn't even half finished.

"Elaine Livingston," she said, into the telephone receiver.

The voice on the other end belonged to Thatcher, but his tone was different. He sounded almost anxious. She nodded as he spoke, though he could not see her.

"Are you sure?" she asked, with a gasp.

The room fell quiet again as Thatcher spoke.

"Yes, sir. Of course I will, sir."

She softly set the receiver in its cradle. Her focus stayed on the telephone for a few moments. Her mind processed what she had just heard, but she found the information unbelievable. She lifted her coat from the back of a chair and opened her umbrella.

Elaine walked from her hotel clear to Salem trying to fulfill Thatcher's instructions. An involuntary shudder passed through her as she passed by the site of the Witch Trials. So many innocent people had died just because some girls ate spoiled rye. She quickened her steps to leave that place behind. There were too many similarities between the witch-hunts and the Jewish genocide. Too many similarities and too many years. Time should have eradicated such blatant hatred from the hearts of men.

Elaine wrapped her coat tighter around herself. The temperature had dropped to a level where the rain on the sidewalk had become slippery. The precipitation would soon turn to snow, despite the impending spring. She sighed deeply, ready to return to her hotel room. Thatcher would not be pleased, but her assignment had been nearly impossible.

She retraced her footsteps back to the hotel. Her feet were sore from walking in high heels and her nose was beginning to run. She nodded to the bellman, and he opened the entrance for her.

Elaine froze in her steps. It was hard to hear over the din of the city but she strained her ears to listen. A car rattled by, for a moment blocking all other sounds. After it passed, there was a rare moment of silence when she heard clearly. She turned in all directions, looking frantically for the sounds. Finally, she spotted what she sought. She jogged across the street, keeping her eyes trained on her goal.

"Mae govannen."


	4. A Friendly Visit

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Three**

"**A Friendly Visit"**

The Elves spun around to face the one who addressed them in Sindarin. The woman standing before them was clearly not a woman at all. Her creamy skin shone faintly as if a single beam of moonlight penetrated the angry black clouds floating in the sky and cast a pale halo around her. In her eyes, blue and clear as a drop of rain, immortal wisdom burned. She stood eye level with Haldir; the tallest of the Elves, and no hint of apology flashed across her face as she looked down to survey the others. Eldar she was, yet the identity of her kin group escaped them. She looked unlike any Silvan Elf known to the ellyn, and no wood-elf would care to remain in this machine-driven city of Men, but no other kindred remained in Arda.

"Please, come with me. I will take you someplace safe."

The Sindarin she spoke was extremely different from Valinórean Sindarin. Her accent also sounded strange, but her words were understandable. The gentle tone of her voice struck a chord in all of them, and they followed her without question. She led them across the street to the building they had considered entering.

She spoke to the doorman in the gibberish language the farmer had used with the Elves. He smiled and nodded, then disappeared into the building. The elleth turned back to them.

"I was sent to look for you, and I am glad I found you before the authorities did. Strangers are not welcomed into America warmly any more. There used to be a time when this country truly did open her arms to the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses, but that has passed now. The attack on Pearl Harbor last year cut the last bonds of love for foreigners that we had."

The Elves did not understand her meaning, but were happy to have found a friend. A metal cart pulled up to the curb beside the Elves. They stepped back, almost in unison. The elleth, however, opened the door and motioned for them to get in.

"Have you seen a car before?"

They nodded, warily. She laughed lightly.

"There is nothing to fear." They still did not move to enter the car. "Look, you can't ride a horse through Boston. There is nothing to fear from an automobile. Ricky is a good driver."

A man seated in the driver's seat waved to them. "Mae govannen, mellyn."

His Sindarin was atrocious, but his effort made up for the difference.

"What about the horses?" Elladan asked.

The elleth looked at the animals. She turned to the bellman and spoke to him in his language. He nodded again, more than happy to accommodate her.

"They will be sent to a stable outside the city."

The Elves said farewell to the horses and crammed themselves into the backseat of the automobile. The elleth sat in the front beside Ricky. As the car lurched away from the curb, the Elves scrambled to find something to hold onto. Ricky hit the brakes hard to stop at a crosswalk causing the Elves to erupt in protest.

"This machine is a servant Angband!" Haldir cried.

"Calm yourself, Haldir of Lórien. There are many things far more frightening in this new world than a car."

The Elves' faces paled as she said this. The car began to move again, and the Elves braced themselves for the duration of the ride, but did not complain again.

"How do you know my name?" Haldir asked.

"I know much more about you than your name." She smiled, coyly, "Does that frighten you?"

The four Elves looked at each other nervously. Each wondered silently if she led them into a trap.

"Who are you," Elladan demanded.

"In this world, I am called Elaine. I have had different names in the past, however."

"You look like Arwen Undómiel," Haldir replied.

His comment earned him a sharp jab in the ribs from Legolas, but Elladan and Elrohir took no offense. Haldir was right. She did look something like Arwen. The march warden, however, had very rarely been around their sister. There were obvious differences, and Elaine was nowhere near as beautiful as Arwen. If she were, she would never be able to blend in with mortal women.

"Thank you, Haldir," she answered, blushing slightly. "We're almost there."

Up ahead stood a large, solitary gray and red building. In front of the building sat a dozen machines with many long, rectangular boxes linked together. As they left the building, puffs of smoke issued from a stack in the first box.

"It looks like a dragon," Legolas stated.

He was the only person in the car to have ever seen a dragon, but his friends nodded anyhow. As the mechanical dragon passed them, the car shook with the rumbling and rushing.

"It's a train. It's much faster than a car," Elaine explained.

That did not seem to relieve the Elves' tension at all, but they followed Elaine into the station. She spoke to a man behind a glass window in the gibberish language the Elves heard all around them.

"What is the language you speak?" Elrohir asked.

"English," she replied. "It's a form of Rohirric."

Legolas smiled proudly, having figured that out already. "I knew that."

Haldir scowled at him. "You know everything about men, yet you still have not figured out that Nimrodel was not lost because the balrog escaped Moria."

"Yes, she was," Legolas countered.

"She was not, Legolas. My father knew her personally. She was lost sometime after."

Elladan sighed wearily. "Is there anyway you could separate them on this train?"

Elaine smiled, but shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We must stay together in one car."

She led them through the bustling station to the platform from which their train was departing. The Conductor smiled warmly at her.

"Hello there. Going back to Washington?"

"I am," she replied. "I've reserved my usual cabin."

"Very well. We'll see that you're taken care of, Miss Livingston."

Elaine led the Elves onto the train and showed them their cabin. She hoped that the speeding train wasn't too much for the Elves, but it was the fastest way to Washington D.C. She almost thought about taking an airplane, but quickly decided against that. If the Elves thought a car was frightening, she did not want to imagine them flying through the air.

The Elves looked up at the florescent lights in wonder. It appeared that sunlight radiated from inside the glass, but the light was dim and discolored the room around them. Elaine attempted to explain electricity. The Elves' ability to understand such a foreign thing impressed her, especially since she could not properly explain the workings of electric lights.

Elaine took her seat, and motioned for the ellyn to do the same. A touch of confusion flickered across her face when they would not sit until after she did. She crossed her legs and smoothed her blue dress out around her knees. The Elves turned their attention away towards the view out the window. Ellyth in Middle-earth would have never worn something so revealing.

"We should be in Washington within a few hours."

"Washington?" Elladan asked.

"Yes, Washington D.C. It is south of here."

"Why are we going there?" Elrohir inquired.

After the remark she made to Haldir in the car, he was not so willing to trust her.

"The person who sent me to find you is there. He wishes to speak with you."

"And who is this person?" Elladan pressed.

"My friend."

Knowing he would get no more from her, Elladan turned his attention towards the window also. The train did not seem to bother the Elves as much as the car. It traveled much faster than a car, but the ride was smoother. The Elves enjoyed every moment of the scenery. Along the railroad tracks, the landscape was undeveloped except in a few places. The sight of trees and rolling meadows lifted their spirits considerably. Elaine was grateful that this rail line bypassed New York City.

"If you are hungry, dinner will be served in the dining car shortly," Elaine stated.

"A meal that is not lembas and water would be most appreciated," Legolas said.

The others seemed to agree with his sentiment.

"I will go tell the waiters to expect us. Wait here. If we get separated on the train, we may not be able to find one another again."

With those words, Elaine slipped from the car.

"We go now," Haldir said, standing up.

"Haldir!" Elladan scolded, "Sit down."

"I do not trust her. She is hiding something. That is plain to me."

Elrohir nodded his assent. "I also do not trust her."

Elladan sighed, "Do you truly feel ill will from her?"

The two Elves conceded that point.

"What kind of Elf remains in Middle-earth all these long years? She has even blended in with the humans. She wears her hair to hide her ears as if she is afraid of being discovered," Haldir argued.

"Why do you not ask me about that, Haldir?"

The Elves started as Elaine slipped back into the cabin. They narrowed their eyes at her. Something was amiss. They had not felt her approach.

"I am sure my answer will be a frightening explanation indeed. Ask me, and you will soon be covering those leaf-shaped ears yourself. We may go for dinner now."

The Elves stood to leave, but Elaine did not move from the door.

"You cannot go into the dining car armed."

The Elves told her their objections immediately. Elaine shook her head.

"You cannot. There are very wealthy people sitting in that car. Very wealthy people are very nosy, and nosy people like to gossip. You already stand out far too much in your clothing. I cannot let you go to dinner with bows, quivers, and swords."

The ellyn looked to Elladan. The elder son of Elrond reluctantly unbuckled his sword belt. Slowly, the others did the same. Elaine was very aware of the fact that Elladan had a hunting knife tucked beneath his tunic, and Haldir had a dagger in his boot. She said nothing about it.

The people in the dining car appeared exactly as Elaine said they would. The women wore furs over their shoulders and heavy diamonds on their throats and ears. Many had painted their faces heavily, and they looked like court jesters to the Elves.

The maître d' seated them at a table in the back of the dining car, as Elaine had requested. The waiter smiled at his favorite customer. Elaine was one of the most frequent travelers on this exclusive rail line, and very conscientious with tips.

"Good evening, Miss Livingston," Angelo smiled. "I see you have some different friends tonight. Shall they need a menu?"

"No, Angelo. They are quite familiar with the entrées. In fact, we have already decided. The gentlemen would like poached salmon, and I will have my usual."

Angelo looked disapprovingly at the Elves. He wondered what kind of men asked a woman to order for them.

"Of course. I will bring it to you promptly."

"Do you like fish?" Elaine questioned.

She was not sure what these Elves were used to eating, but she did not image it was hamburger and Caesar salad. They nodded their approval. Elaine already noticed that the wealthy women were beginning to gossip about the strange men seated with her. She hoped their manner of dress would not reach the ears of the _New York World _journalists.

"What is this?" Haldir asked, looking at his dinner.

"Fish," Elaine replied. "Salmon. I can't tell you the Elvish name for it, but I'm sure Círdan would know it."

Elladan looked at her curiously. No one spoke of the Elf-lord in such an informal manner, not even Elrond.

They were not half finished with their meal when an elderly woman approached their table.

"Hello, Elaine," she smiled, false sweetness seeping from her voice. "Who are your friends?"

Elaine shook her head. "They are both friends and family. Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Ranier. They don't speak English."

Mrs. Ranier nodded, now very interested. "Thatcher never told me you had foreign family."

"Well, Mrs. Ranier, it was nice to see you, but we really must turn in now. My family has had a very long trip. Please, excuse us. We'll see each other soon I'm sure. Perhaps we could chat longer then."

The woman accepted the gentle brush off without complaint and took her seat beside her husband again.

"Let's go back to the cabin," Elaine said, standing.

"I'm not finished with my fish," Haldir stated.

"We must go now. That woman has suspected far too much."

Elaine headed for the exit without another word. Elladan motioned for the Elves to follow her.

"Why must we be so afraid of the woman knowing that we are Elves?" Legolas dared to ask.

Elaine looked back at him, startled by the question. An invisible veil fell over her eyes, and she suddenly appeared detached from the modern world. They caught a glimpse of a foreign elleth, lost amid a sea of terrible immortal memory, and darkness haunted her eyes.

"Do not ask me that," she replied, rather harshly. "It is sufficient to say that you should cover your ears and do as I say. Unless you wish to find out first hand. You should rest before we arrive in Washington. You will not have much time after that."

Haldir started from his rest, surprised that he had allowed himself to sleep. He was at full attention within seconds of waking. He noted the presence hovering around his feet, and looked down to see Elaine bent over his pack. She moved the items around carefully so as not to noticeably disturb anything inside. Elaine jumped when Haldir's feet hit the floor. She dropped his pack, and stood up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, incredulously.

"I was looking for something," Elaine answered.

She cringed inwardly at her own answer, but she hadn't expected the march warden to wake. She should have, considering that his sole duty as march warden was to detect intruders.

"In my pack?"

She nodded.

"What could you possibly need in my pack? Lembas, maybe?"

"I was looking for some clue as to why four Elves from Valinor have shown up in the United States."

"You could have asked."

"Would you have told me, Haldir?"

"Do not address me so informally," Haldir responded, drawing himself up to his full height. Even then, she was just as tall.

"Please, forgive me. I did not mean to insult you, Lord Haldir," she replied, sarcastically and accompanied by a low bow.

He was painfully aware that he was not nobility, but he did not shrink under her harsh words.

"Master Elf will do."

Elaine laughed, "You expect me to call you Master Elf?"

"Yes," he replied, holding her gaze firmly.

"Fine, I shall call you as you wish to be called."

Elaine sat down in her seat and opened a magazine. She absorbed herself in the reading, acting as if Haldir was not standing over her at all. The march warden took his own seat, casting scathing glances at the elleth. If she noticed, she did nothing about it. She seemed unaware of the Elf, flipping from page to page. Finally, after two hours of this, Elaine stood and touched the three sleeping Elves.

"Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir," she turned to Haldir. "Master Elf."

Haldir seethed silently, clenching his fists. Legolas gave him a questioning look, but the march warden said nothing.

"We have arrived in Washington, D.C."


	5. Unexpected Revelations

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Four**

"**Unexpected Revelations"**

Elaine transported the Elves to yet another vehicle. This time, it was a long, slender black car that Elaine called a limousine. They sped along the paved roads from the train station into a new town. Compared to Boston, this was a rather quaint city. Though it was quite large, it smelled cleaner, and there were patches of green lawns and trees on every street.

"This is the nation's capital. It is called Washington D.C., named after the first President of the United States," Elaine explained. "This is where national government is handled. That is Capital Hill. The lawmakers of the nation meet there."

She continued to point out various monuments and their purposes as they drove through the city.

"What is that building?" Legolas asked.

"That is the Smithsonian."

"And that one?"

"The Smithsonian."

"Is that the Smithsonian too?"

"Yes," she laughed. "All the buildings along this street are the Smithsonian. It is a vast museum of history and art."

"Is there anything Elven in there?" Elrohir asked.

"Mostly, men have forgotten their past. They do not know about the realm of Gondor or King Elessar or Elves. However, they do have one Elven relic. A bow of Silvan make and a single arrow fletched with white feathers. They found it in what was once Rohan, and naturally associated it with those people. I have heard some say that it was found at the site where the battle for Helm's Deep took place."

"It's mine," Legolas grinned. "It was my Mirkwood bow. It's broken, though."

A surprised smile touched Elaine's mouth. She nodded. "Yes, it is."

"An Elven bow and a Rohirric bow are vastly different. How could the historians have thought them the same?" Elladan questioned.

Elaine shrugged, "Men have strange minds." She turned to peer out the window. "We are almost there. The gates should be coming up soon."

They had driven clear out of the city limits, on the Virginia side of Washington D.C. The landscape was now all green and lush, with copses of trees dotting the rolling hills. The only indication of intrusion onto the land was the power lines running beside the road. A few moments later, the car passed through two giant pillars carved from marble to resemble trees. The inhabitants of the backseat watched out the window in awe.

They felt an immediate shift in energy around them. The pillars were Elven-blessed. They were signals that someone had entered the property. They continued down the path for nearly another mile before the Elves saw the wall.

Rising from the rolling meadow was a stone wall eight feet tall and three feet thick. The only entrance was a black iron gate guarded by two Elven march wardens. Hidden within the pattern of the gate was elvish script. _Mae govannen, mellyn, a Eryn Lasgalen._

Legolas felt his heart skip several beats. He turned sharply to Elaine, hoping for some confirmation that he had read the words correctly, but she gave none.

Trees grew thickly both inside and outside of the wall. Every tree branch intertwined, creating a nearly solid canopy. The Elves listened in wonder as the trees whispered about the new Elves to one another. As Elaine led them up the stone path, _talans_ built in the branches became visible. Many Elves sang softly from the treetops.

Beneath the highest arch of the canopy sat a house built from the same rock as the wall. It was four stories high and only ten feet less wide than the wall. Another march warden opened the door for the Elves and bowed slightly to them.

Very few Elves roamed the vast corridors the dwelling. Of those few Elves, some dressed in the old fashion, but most wore modern clothing, like Elaine's. The décor of the stone palace was nearly the same as Thranduil's caverns in Eryn Lasgalen. Many items were new, yet made to imitate the old. Legolas searched in vain for any misplaced or unremembered item.

Elaine stopped outside the doors that would have belonged to Thranduil's throne room. Legolas felt his breath quicken. He did not need to see the room to know who stood on the other side of the door. When Elaine received the signal, she opened the door.

As the heavy doors swung back, Elaine stepped aside to reveal her Senator, Thatcher Greenwood. Responsibility had etched lines around the corners of his eyes, but a neatly kept golden beard hid the lines around his mouth. His shoulder drooped slightly, as if he wore a heavy weight on a necklace. In truth, Time was the only albatross around his neck. Despite his aged appearance, his eyes burned like blue flame as the visitors entered his office.

His appearance had changed, but there was no mistaking Thranduil.

"Five thousand years apart and I don't even receive a 'mae govannen'?" Thranduil questioned.

Father and son met in the center of the room, and embraced tightly.

"You are still the King of the Woodland realm," Legolas smiled. "I should have known."

Thranduil laughed softly, "How could you doubt? But I am called a King only by the Silvan folk." He paused for a moment. "May I inquire as to why four Valinórean Elves have come to the United States? Or shall that question wait until you are rested?"

"It would be best," Elladan answered, "for that tale is long."

Thranduil nodded, "Then we will speak in the morning. For now, Elaneth will show you to your rooms."

Elaine led Elladan, Elrohir, and Haldir from the study, but Legolas stayed behind with his father.

"Would you prefer a room or a _talan_?" she asked.

* * *

The four Elves of Valinor gathered in Thranduil's study early the following morning, but Elaine was absent from the meeting. After she had shown Elladan, Elrohir, and Haldir to a _talan_, she had disappeared into the forest still wearing her dress and high heels.

Thranduil seated them at the couches in the corner of his office. Many important international figures had sat on those couches. President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill were only a few of the diplomats Thranduil had entertained at Eryn Lasgalen. Of course, the wood-elves disappeared into the trees at those times, keeping a silent sentinel over their King.

"Will you tell us how this world has changed so much?" Elrohir asked.

"I will tell you that tale in brief, for it is several millennia long. It began with the fall of Gondor, a brief two centuries after the departure of the High-elves."

The Elves gasped, startled by such a statement. Gondor was the pillar of the West. No Elf or Man ever imagined that glorious kingdom would fall.

"With Gondor went the West. The Rohirrim fought to the last man, but they could not stem the tide of the Easterlings and Southrons. They destroyed every last home in the West. Some say, the spirit of Sauron returned, and he aided them in this destruction, but I don't believe it was so. The West had peace for so long. They simply forgot what it was to be at war. The men could not fight well enough and the fortresses could not hold."

Thranduil sighed deeply before he continued. He so rarely spoke of the ancient times because of the pain it caused him.

"The Easterlings were fearful of Eryn Lasgalen. They were superstitious people. Though the Silvan folk have lesser magic than the High-elves, we were undisturbed. For a time. Word reached us that the forest of Ithilien burned. Sorrow took me for all the Elves remaining in south Ithilien were once my subjects.

"It was then, in the time when the leadership of Eryn Lasgalen was in doubt, that the Easterlings assailed us. We were unprepared and many of our warriors fell in that fight. Those of us who survived fled into the Misty Mountains. At last, we came to Imladris and took refuge inside the city of Elrond. But my eyes had seen too much evil. My realm was burned, my people ruined, and all my sons spent."

Legolas blinked hard, fighting back his tears at the news.

"It was then, when my fëa was fading that my life began anew. Adonniel brought me from the brink of death back into the light with her healing hands. She said the King of Gondor had survived. He was in hiding in Ithilien, and he called for the aid of any Eldar who might help him.

"I have never loved Men, but many of my people had at one time known Aragorn Elessar. Some had even known Beren. They wished to aid the King. I woke from my despair and departed into Ithilien.

"King after King was born and died, but the wood-elves did not abandon the Men of Aragorn. After long centuries of toil and hardships, Gondor rose again in power. Men called it the Roman Empire. We lived within the borders of the Empire, but mostly we stayed to the outermost posts where few men cared to dwell. There, we lived in peace and harmony until the Roman Empire began its decline.

"I do not wish to speak of the times that followed for the Silvan folk called them the second Dark Age of our kind. Men forgot us. It is sufficient to say that we have continued through the Ages, blending in when we may and hiding when we may not."

The Elves remained silent for a long time. Thranduil's story was but a brief summary of his years, yet they found the tale overwhelming.

"Where is naneth?" Legolas asked, hesitantly.

He did not wish to hear that any evil had claimed his mother's life, but he also did not want to remain in doubt.

Thranduil smiled. "Your mother is well. She is in Oregon. There, the trees are still thick and remember us well."

It was nearly midnight when Elaine returned to the study. She carried a tray with wine and sweet cakes.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said. "I thought you might like refreshments."

"Thank you, Elaneth," Thranduil said, smiling. "Please, sit with us now. I think you should be here for the next round of conversation."

"Me?" she asked, "I don't know much about Middle-earth. I wasn't born until the time of the Romans."

Thranduil shook his head. "This is about your world now. You know more of it than I do."

Elaine graciously sat on the couch next to the King and poured everyone wine. "I will answer whatever questions I may, but you are the politician."

Legolas looked at his father in shock. "Politician! You used to complain ceaselessly about such people! You said a King was a ruler, not a compromiser."

He sighed. "Yes, I am a Senator representing the state of Oregon. I go by the name Thatcher Greenwood these days. I could not have remained King of the Elves if I did not change with the times. In this country, the way to provide for my people is through government involvement. I should like to say for the record that I am only a politician for appearances. Elaneth is the true mastermind of political science. I am a speaker and commanding figure; a King."

"How did you become a leader in the world of men?" Legolas asked.

"I wrote some legislation that equalized the numbers being drafted into the military between class and race distinctions," Thranduil answered.

"Among other things. He also convinced the League of Nations, even though America is not in the League of Nations--"

"Elaneth," Thranduil cut in. "These are probably not the matters our friends are here to speak about."

The Elves had barely understood Thranduil's explanation of what he did, let alone Elaneth's. They said nothing about it.

"Why are you here?" Thranduil asked. "I was so surprised that I sensed Elves nearby, and then I learned it was you … Are the Valar allowing Elves to depart Valinor again? That would not be wise in this Age."

Elladan answered, "This is truly the matter of which we need to speak. The Valar sent us to complete a task for them. Ulmo has sensed evil afoot in the world, and Maiar spirits have been disappearing. Our task is to find out why, and who, is doing it."

"Then our tasks are similar," Thranduil answered. "We have also been trying to figure out this mystery. Elaneth, you should probably take over from here." He turned to the Elves. "She is very competent in international relations."

"It's Hitler," Elaneth stated, matter-of-factly.

"You don't know that," Thranduil cut in.

"He's annihilating an entire race in Europe. He's certainly evil enough."

"Slow down, Elaneth," Elrohir said, gently. "Start from the beginning. Who is Hitler?"

"We're at war, Elrohir," she said. "It's a World War, the second one. That may sound strange to those who fought in the War of the Ring, but this world has never seen a war like this. Europe is on the brink of destruction; the Pacific is close to that point also. In 1941, Japan attacked our country. We joined the war then. The Axis powers, who we are fighting against, are Germany, Italy, and Japan--"

"What year is it now?" Haldir asked.

"1942," Thranduil answered.

"Hitler is the leader of Germany," Elaneth continued. "He is an evil man. He seeks to exterminate every Jew from this world."

"He uses torture tactics of Morgoth," Thranduil added. "And military tactics of Sauron. Not since the Third Age has there been such incarnate evil."

"Could there be anyone else?" Elladan asked. "We must not limit our planning to one man only to find out that we were mistaken."

Elaneth shook her head. "Mussolini is not smart enough to capture a Maia."

Thranduil suppressed his laugh. "This is true. Stalin is also very evil, but he is fighting on our side. I have been to the U.S.S.R and spoken with him personally. He is an evil man. To look into his eyes made me shudder. His evil is not so consuming, however. He is delusional, and he truly believes he helps the Soviet Union."

"Where should we begin?" Legolas asked.

"We need to go to this Hitler," Elladan replied. "We will be able read his spirit then."

Elaneth looked to her King nervously. He nodded.

"You should book passage to England. Elaneth may go that far with you. From there another friend will help you on your journey. That is, if he is not tirelessly defending his own country," Thranduil said.

Without need for instruction, Elaneth began to prepare to depart for London. She entertained the idea of going by airplane, but she did not think the Elves would be comfortable with that. Besides, transatlantic flights were a rather new thing, and not entirely dependable. She decided to take a ship, although that would cost them time. The Germans had stopped warfare on civilian cruise ships, and Elaneth doubted they would resume within three weeks.

"All the arrangements are made," Elaneth announced.

Legolas and Haldir were the only ones seated in the living room. She placed a tray of wine down on the coffee table.

"We are going by ship. That should ease your fears," she smiled. "An airplane would have frightened you to no end."

"What is an … airplane?" Legolas asked.

"It's a flying machine. It transports people across land and oceans through the sky." The Elves obviously did not believe her. "That is what we are fighting the war with, in Europe anyhow. In the Pacific, we're using mostly carriers and battleships."

"Like the Teleri?" Haldir asked.

A smile crept across Elaneth's face. "Something like that. Only, they don't fire arrows from their ships. They use torpedoes, missiles, and ammunition."

"What are these things?" Legolas asked, leaning forward.

"They are weapons of destruction. You have seen them at work. Saurman used one at Helm's Deep. That is all wars are fought with now."

The Elves looked horrified.

"Men just blow each other up without thought to who is evil and who is only in fear of his master?" Haldir questioned.

Elaneth narrowed her eyes. "Did you consider this before killing an Orc?"

"They are creatures of darkness," Haldir argued. "There was not a pure soul among them."

"That was not their fault. They were twisted into evil creatures."

The march warden raised his eyebrows. "So, I should have let them burn Lothlórien?"

"Of course not," the elleth answered quickly. She had lost the argument, and she knew it. "I only meant to say that one always feels the side they are on is right. There is no clear-cut evil in this world, Haldir. Perhaps in Middle-earth, but not here." She stopped herself abruptly. "I'm sorry. I should not say all of this to you. Your mission is to identify this evil and nothing more. You do not need to know the sorrows of this world."

A sip of her wine seemed to change her mood. She smiled at the Elves.

"You get to see something of Middle-earth, however. England is what was once called The Shire."


	6. On the Open Sea

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Five**

"**On the Open Sea"**

Father and son stood silently under the moonlight. It had been many long millennia since they had been together, but it did not dull their connection any.

"Why did you not come to Valinor?" Legolas asked.

He continued to look straight ahead. In the far distance, lights flickered in Washington, D.C. They cast a strange glow into the sky and veiled the stars.

"Why do you ask such a thing? You know wood-elves do not wish to depart this world."

"You are Sindarin, adar. When you wished for death, why did you not sail West?"

Thranduil sighed softly. "I did not know if I would be welcomed."

Legolas turn to his father. Hurt and disbelief clouded his blue eyes.

"Why would we have not welcomed you? Did I not shed tears when we parted at the last? Did I not invite you and naneth to my future home on Tol Eressëa?"

Thranduil shook his head. "I did not mean you. I meant … the Valar. The Sindar defied the Valar in never completing the journey to Valinor in the First Age. When I did not return in the Fourth Age … I did not know if the grace of the Valar had been lifted." He fell silent for a moment. "There were some wood-elves during the darkest times who said we should try to enter the Blessed Realm. The majority, however, chose to move once more to a land less hostile to us."

"And the ones who did not?"

"They chose another King, with my blessing." He released a strangled sigh. "They were slaughtered not a month after we departed. We joined the men of Aragorn in the snowy wilderness of Finland. There has ever been friendship between our people since that time."

Thranduil smiled proudly at his son. Legolas was stunned to see such a look of admiration. It seemed to him that he had always caused his father grief in Middle-earth. From his daydreams, to Gollum's escape, to sailing to Valinor, he had always felt like a disappointment to his father.

"Your friendship with Aragorn is the basis of this second alliance." The King chuckled softly. "Do you know what I am called by the men of that line?"

Legolas shook his head.

"They know me as your father. They say I am the King of the wood-elves, of the House of Legolas." The King smiled. "You did well, my son, very well."

* * *

Elaneth dumped an armload of clothes on the sofa. The Elves looked at the pile suspiciously. 

"What is wrong with our current attire?" Haldir questioned.

The elleth studied the Elves in front of her. They were dressed as warriors. Elladan and Elrohir wore almost identical royal blue and silver uniforms, the colors of Imladris. Legolas wore brown and green, while Haldir dressed in red and gray. It appeared that fashion had changed little with the journey West.

"Well, for starters, most people nowadays do not carry bows or swords. Men do not wear leggings, tunics, or have long hair."

All four Elves immediately protested. Elaneth held up her hands. "Fine, keep the hair, but try on these clothes."

She handed out the suits, each slightly different in color and style. She kept the clothes consistent with the colors of the Elves' Houses and realms, for their own comfort. She gave a navy blue suit to Elrohir, blue pinstripe to Elladan, brown to Legolas, and gray to Haldir. The march warden looked at the other suits, then back to his own.

"Why can I not have a red suit? Red is color of Lothlórien Captains."

Elaneth bit her tongue. "Most men do not wear such bright colors."

"You have on a red dress," he protested.

"Do I look like a man? Now, go change in those rooms over there. I want to see how you look."

Elaneth sat on the sofa flipping through a magazine while the Elves changed. Thranduil entered a few moments later.

"What is all this, Elaneth?"

The elleth looked at the pile of clothes, then back to her King. "You didn't expect me to travel to Europe with them in those clothes, did you?"

"That's funny because I see a few dresses in that pile."

"They're for Haldir," Elaneth deadpanned.

"He's probably your size?"

"Yes," she answered. "Though not in the chest."

Thranduil ignored the cheeky comment.

"I know this is a sudden change."

"Change is all I've known. The last 3,000 years have changed more rapidly than all other Ages of the world, and I have not even been alive for all those 3,000 years. I am glad to meet other Elves. Did you know Haldir is a Silvan Elf?"

"Yes," he answered. "I knew his father before Greenwood and Lórien were sundered."

"I would have never guessed. He wears armor and fights mostly with his sword, and yet, Legolas is Sindarin, but continues to live like a true wood-elf."

Haldir appeared a moment later, frustration evident on his face. When she saw him, Elaneth burst into laughter.

"Oh, Haldir! You've put the suit on wrong."

She walked over to him and began straightening out the suit. He had tied the belt around his waist, over the jacket, and the buttons of his shirt were uneven. His tie lay over his shoulder as if it were a sash.

"I suppose I should have been more helpful," she said.

When she moved to unbutton his shirt, Haldir stepped away. "What's wrong? Here, let me fix it."

"It is not proper, Lady Elaneth."

Elaneth stood back, shocked and amused. Apparently, the customs of the Eldar in Valinor were stricter than among the Silvan folk. Haldir began to fix the buttons himself. Elaneth took a deep breath as his shirt opened, exposing his chest. He was not as thin as most Elves, and his muscles were defined by many years of fighting. She swallowed hard, wishing he had let her unbutton his shirt.

A hard clearing of the throat brought Elaneth back into the moment. She quickly glanced away to see Thranduil staring at her. Legolas had exited his changing room a moment earlier, and was watching Elaneth's appraisal of Haldir with a small smirk. He, however, had done no better dressing himself. Elaneth distracted herself by attempting to straighten up Legolas's clothes. She was barely done when Elladan and Elrohir appeared, just as disheveled.

"Everyone else I dress can figure out their clothing just fine," she muttered.

"You leave in the morning, correct?" Thranduil asked. "You should all get some rest tonight."

"Yes, we have a long day ahead of us," Elaneth agreed. "I'm afraid you'll have to endure another car trip, a train ride, the horribly industrial city of New York, and unpleasant immigrant dock workers all in one day, but New York is the closest civilian port and the only harbor on the eastern shore with routes to England."

The ellyn only shrugged. Nothing Elaneth said made much sense to them.

* * *

When the Elves awoke the next morning, breakfast had been prepared from them, and their bags were sitting by the door. There did not appear to be any servants around, but Elaneth did not look as if she had been working in the kitchen all morning. 

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Lady Elaneth," Haldir answered, bowing slightly.

"Please, Haldir, call me only Elaneth. I am no Lady."

"True. You are descended from a Prince of Doriath, are you not? Therefore, you are a princess."

Elaneth seemed surprised that he had guessed her parentage correctly. "Who told you?"

"I overheard a march warden call you Princess Elaneth."

A forced smile stretched across her lips, but she shook her head. "I am only Elaneth."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas entered at odd intervals during breakfast. It seemed that only the five Elves preparing to depart were in the palace. The Valinóreans began to wonder how many Elves lived in Eryn Lasgalen. They had seen only fifteen Elves, including Elaneth and Thranduil.

"Here is some breakfast for you," Elaneth said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Elladan.

"Thank you. Please, sit down. I need to discuss this trip with you." After she sat, he began his questioning. "How long will it take for us to reach Germany?"

"Hitler will be in Berlin. The voyage to Dover is three weeks. From there, we could be in Switzerland within a day. The harder part is entering Occupied Territory. The Nazi regime is very cautious."

"With no delays, how long may it be until we can see Hitler?"

"He gives speeches to the German people all the time. Seeing him will not be hard to do. Getting to Berlin will be the hardest part. Perhaps it will take one month."

Elladan sucked in his breath. "Is there no other way that is faster?"

"There is, but it is extremely unreliable. Cancellations could delay us longer. Transatlantic flights are very new."

The Elf nodded. "Well, if the Fellowship can plan on walking to Mordor, then I suppose we can spend a month in travel. Tell me about Hitler and his minions."

Elaneth smiled. The Nazis certainly were minions. They had been called far worse, but Elladan's assessment was the most accurate she had heard.

"Adolph Hitler is Austrian, but governs the country of Germany. His party is the Nazi party, a fascist regime. The state controls everything from elections to what is read in the newspapers. He has taken over all the countries of Eastern Europe and France. His allies are Italy and Japan. Japan attacked the United States. Mostly, our military fights in the Pacific, but some men have gone to Europe."

The Elves did not understand everything she said, but Thranduil had shown them modern maps.

"The Nazis are a vile party. Hitler has ordered a mass extermination of the Jews of Europe. They are of Easterling decent, but they never served the Dark Lord. Their origin is traced through Bór, the Easterling who proved faithful in the First Age. For thousands of years, they fought to defend their homeland and their way of life, but now they are scattered. The Jews are placed in Concentration Camps and executed in the most heinous ways. Those who do not immediately find death must work for the Nazis. They receive no food or wages, only regular beatings and torture. The worst of all of it is that their toil furthers Hitler's plan to annihilate their people. Yet, if they do not work, they are submitted to more torture."

Elladan closed his eyes at her descriptions. "This sounds like the work of the Dark Lord himself. Let us hope it is not so."

"People follow his rule willingly?" Haldir asked, horrified.

"Their willingness is questionable. Mob mentality and the human need to belong are fickle states of mind," she replied. "The Germans flock to him as if he has promised them Valinor. They march through the streets, chanting war songs, proud to be Nazi Germans. The soldiers murder at will, and I do not mean only on the battlefield. They will murder anyone who publicly opposes them, anyone who aids a Jew, even because a person is crippled."

"How much of Europe still stands free?"

Elaneth shook her head. "Switzerland, Sweden, and Ireland have claimed neutrality, but Hitler does not always honor such pacts. Spain and Portugal are weak. Mussolini is attacking the Balkans as we speak. The U.S.S.R fights, but the Eastern Front has pushed into their own country. The only defense Europe has is England."

"The Shire?" Legolas questioned. "That is all?"

Elaneth nodded.

"This task will be harder than I thought," Elrohir said. "How quickly will this war spread?"

"If England falls, there is no hope of victory," Thranduil answered, entering the room.

"I have called Andre," Elaneth said.

Thranduil nodded. "Good. We will need him."

"Who is Andre?" Elladan asked.

"Andre Walker. He is a good friend of mine. He will be waiting for you in London with whatever help he can find."

The Elves left the house directly after breakfast. Their bags had been loaded, along with a separate trunk that contained their weapons.

"How long do you travel with us, my Lady?" Legolas asked.

"I will go as far as London. If Andre is on active duty, then I will go further. If he is free to join you, then I will remain in London."

"You can fight?" Haldir asked.

"My skill is not in such areas, though I can defend myself if I must. I will go as a translator. I speak German and Italian among other languages."

"Very impressive," Elrohir smiled. "Quenya, Sindarin, English, German, and Italian … any others?"

"Spanish and French. Finnish and Welsh also, but those don't count. They are too similar to Quenya and Sindarin."

Most of their day was spent in transit to New York City. Thranduil left them at the Washington D.C. train depot with well wishes and falsified passports, the latter more helpful than the former. From there to the depot in New York City, Elaneth explained various mechanisms of the modern world. Subway systems, factories, and Universities caught the Elves' attention. At the New York depot, they were met by a chauffeur who drove them to New York Harbor.

New York Harbor smelled like dead fish and toxic factory exhaust. The HMS King Edward bobbed proudly in the harbor, dwarfing the cruise liners docked on either side of the massive British ship. The Elves halted for a moment on the wharf, surveying the ship in awe. Not even the Teleri could build something so large. It was made from metal and coated with lustrous white paint. A hundred circular windows lined both sides of the ship, and three giant smoke stakes rose from the main deck.

"Where are the sails?" Legolas wondered aloud.

"This ship uses coal engines," Elaneth explained.

She led them up the gangplank where a customs agent waited on the deck of the ship.

"Passports," the man said.

Elaneth handed him five passports. The man looked at her skeptically, but flipped open each booklet, and stamped them all.

"Your rooms are on the top deck, Miss Livingston. All three of the suites were reserved for you, ma'am. George will show you the way."

The young man identified as George escorted them through the many hallways of the cruise ship and up to the top deck. The Elves looked around in awe at the massive ship. They were very intrigued by the carpet, something they had never seen before.

Elaneth smiled at the young man. She hoped he would ignore the Elves making such a fuss about carpet. He blushed and ran into a doorframe. Haldir and Legolas snickered at the man. He continued on, embarrassed.

"Here are your rooms."

The boy scurried off with one last glance at Elaneth.

The ship's steam horn blew loudly, signaling their departure. The Elves covered their ears and looked around for what could have caused such a loud sound.

"It was the ship's horn. That's all," Elaneth explained, laughing softly. "We should prepare for dinner. It will be served in a few hours."

* * *

Elaneth stood on the deck of the ship, looking up into the night sky. It was so rare to see the stars clearly. She loved living in the western United States where there was little industry, but she couldn't leave Washington, D.C. too much anymore. 

Another person stepping next to her broke her concentration. She looked over to see Haldir standing several feet from her. She sighed deeply.

"What do you want, Master Elf?"

Haldir ignored her obvious attempt to goad him. "I did not know you were here."

"This is a big ship. Are you telling me you just happened to come to the same spot as I?"

"Yes, but since I am obviously not welcomed, I will go to another place."

Elaneth sighed, "You needn't do that. I do not mind your company that much."

The march warden stepped to the railing beside Elaneth.

"Eärendil is not in the sky," Haldir stated, somewhat confused.

"Eärendil? You mean Venus. That is what men have named him. It has always upset the older Elves, but I think it is quite funny."

"Why is that?"

"Well, Venus is the Roman goddess of love. She is something like Melian is to Elves. They should have named Eärendil's star Neptune, but men do not know about Eärendil. He is visible only at sunset and sunrise during certain times of the year. We should be able to see him before the voyage is through."

"What about the Sickle the Valar?"

"That is always in the sky."

"Above Germany?"

Elaneth sighed. "Yes, and many besides. This world is fraught with peril. War is not the most dangerous of them. Look, right there it is." She pointed to the left. Haldir started at the location of the Sickle. "Men call it the Big Dipper."

"Well, look who we have here."

Both Elves turned around at the stranger's voice. The man standing behind them was shorter than the Elves, yet tall among men. He wore a black pinstripe suit with a long black trench coat and a black fedora tipped forwards.

"Can I help you?" Elaneth asked.

"Perhaps," the man replied. "Was that Sindarin you were speaking?"

Haldir and Elaneth exchanged worried glances.

"I see," the man smiled. "It was."

He drew from under his trench coat a black pistol.


	7. The Face of Danger

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Six**

"**The Face of Danger"**

Haldir pushed Elaneth behind him. The object the stranger held seemed harmless, but the march warden did not judge the situation by sight alone. Hostility churned just beneath the man's calm façade. Elaneth cried out in protest, but Haldir focused on the man dressed in black instead of the elleth's warnings. Before the man could speak again, the march warden drew a dagger from his boot, swiftly embedding it in the man's arm, rendering his shooting hand helpless. The black weapon landed heavily on the deck.

The man looked from his bloody arm to the Elf in shock.

"Ask him why he threatened us," Haldir demanded.

Elaneth did not have time, however, for the man disappeared over the side of the ship, the dagger still in his arm. As shaken as she felt, Elaneth managed to hold her wits together. She grabbed the gun from the deck of the boat, and turned towards their rooms.

"Come on, Haldir. We must tell the others about this."

"Who was that?" he asked.

"I know of only one kind of person who would wear such an outfit and speak with such an accent," she replied. "A German S.S. soldier."

Elaneth knocked on the door of Elrohir and Elladan's room. Elladan answered, still speaking to his brother over his shoulder. Legolas and Elrohir were sitting on the couch, studying a modern map of Europe together. Elladan stepped aside immediately when he saw the solemn look on Elaneth's face.

"We have been followed," Elaneth declared.

Elrohir looked up sharply. "You are sure?"

"A man threatened us on the deck," Haldir explained.

Elaneth held out the gun. "He was a German, part of the S.S."

"S.S.?" Legolas asked.

"Vile men, the lot of them," Elaneth sneered. "They worship Hitler. They are his spies. All of them must be tall, blond, and blue-eyed. That is his idea of the perfect human."

Legolas and Haldir scoffed at the description.

"They are bound to an oath of death should they be caught. Placed in their teeth is a pill of deadly poison. They must swallow it and end their own life before they reveal any information to the Allies."

"How would they know to follow us?" Elrohir asked. "Only you and Thranduil know of our mission."

The elleth shook her head to clear her thoughts. From the safety of Washington D.C. she had learned about these cruel German officers. She never imagined she would meet their hatred head-on.

"Elaneth, who knows we are here?"

"Ricky, Angelo, the conductor …." Her face paled. "Mrs. Ranier. All of Boston, New York, and Washington probably know by now."

"But you said yourself men have forgotten about Elves," Legolas said.

"Whoever is responsible for the disappearing Maiar will know about Elves," Elladan countered.

Elaneth nodded. "Everywhere are S.S. spies. They could have followed us around Boston or been on the train, and none of us would have been any wiser, even if we were looking for them. We have to be extra careful when we leave our rooms. We must all be armed, but do not be obvious about it."

"Perhaps we have found our culprit," Legolas suggested. "Why would German spies care about our presence unless Hitler is guilty?"

Elaneth shook their head sadly.

"Many people have been eager to discover Elves for unholy reasons," she said. "That does not make Hitler guilty of kidnapping Maiar. It simply makes him as evil as all the rest who have cared about such things."

The Elves stayed together for most of the night making plans for when they reached Europe. The ellyn absorbed anything Elaneth could tell them about the Nazis and the geography of Europe.

"You would get along famously with my father," Elladan said, with a smile.

Elaneth's eyebrows rose at the comment. "Really?"

The Elf nodded. "Oh yes. You and he could talk for days, I imagine. You would agree on nothing, of course, but that would not matter to him. His children were never interested in education."

"I should have shown you my library," Elaneth laughed. "I have nearly every book published since the time of the Romans."

Elrohir grinned. "Yes, you and adar would most definitely get along. He is eager for history to be made so he can read about it."

"I would like to meet him. I have read all about him. I know his life by memory."

"You can meet him," Elladan said. "He is in Valinor."

"My place is with my people, not with Noldorin lords."

"You may be right. It is not for me to say where you belong, but you would not be unwelcome in the Blessed Realm."

The elleth laid aside the map she held, and stood from her chair, ending the conversation.

"It's been a long day. We should rest."

* * *

When the new day dawned, a sense of dread weighed heavily on each of the Elves aboard the ship. They met in the hallway, each with apprehension in their eyes.

"Are we armed?" Elrohir asked.

They nodded in unison. They each carried knives or daggers concealed beneath their jackets. Only Elaneth received suspicious glances. She wore a short-sleeved dress that reached her knees, high-heels, and carried no handbag.

"I am armed," she insisted. "If you cannot tell, neither can the S.S."

"Then let us go to breakfast. If we miss a meal in the dining hall, it will be obvious that we know that more than one spy watches us," Elladan said.

Upon entering the dining hall, Haldir scanned the room for any man who happened to look like the German man who had threatened him and Elaneth, but he saw no such person anywhere in the room. Elaneth said the spies were undetectable, but Haldir did not believe her. He was an Elf and a march warden. He had spent his entire life keeping spies and enemies out of the Golden Wood. Still, he saw no tall, blond, blue-eyed German men anywhere.

"I would like some fresh air. I think I will go for a walk on the deck," Elaneth said, rising from her seat.

"Not alone," Elrohir added, quickly.

She was about to protest when Haldir stood. "I also would like to leave the confines of this vessel. I will go with you."

She looked at him strangely, but said nothing about it. The two left promptly, Elaneth leading the way.

"I never had a chance to thank you, Haldir," Elaneth began.

The march warden quickly waved off the comment. "There is no need, Lady Elaneth. It has been my duty to protect royal families for many millennia."

Elaneth's thoughts jumped between gratitude and anger. She opened her mouth to answer his backhanded comment in an equally belittling way, but the words died in her throat. A wave of malevolence crackled in the air. Danger approached. Haldir ushered Elaneth into one of the many entrances to the ship's interior corridors. The sharp clicking of heels echoed down the deck and stopped squarely in front of the door. Haldir slipped a hand to his waist, ready to unsheathe his knife.

A deep voice began speaking in a language Haldir had never heard. It sounded ugly and sharp, spoken from the gut with abrupt halts and beginnings. Elaneth felt a shiver run down her spine.

"German," she mouthed to Haldir.

Two S.S. soldiers were speaking to each other, but Elaneth didn't dare translate to Haldir while the men were so close.

"Where did they go?" the first man asked.

"Who?"

"Who do you think, idiot? The Elves. The male and female. They just left the dining room, coming your way."

"I did not see them."

"You idiot! Der Führer should kill you for this! How can you miss them twice in as many days?"

"I will find them!"

"You had better."

The superior officer quickly left the scene, the hard heels of his boots clicking as he went. The second man walked away a few moments later, muttering German curses at his superior. Danger still hung heavily in the air, but Elaneth did not think it would dissipate anytime soon.

"We are not safe on this ship," Elaneth said, looking to Haldir. "I cannot say for sure which way danger lies. It seems to be all around us."

Haldir nodded. "I sense the same, but we cannot depart in the middle of the ocean."

They agreed that the best plan was to retreat to their rooms. The others would likely finish breakfast soon and return to Elladan and Elrohir's suite. The ellon and elleth moved through the ship carefully, avoiding as many humans as possible.

"It is this way or that," Haldir stated, nodding to two different hallways. "There are men in both."

Elaneth glanced between the two corridors. "This one is the fastest way to our room."

"We take the other then," the ellon decided.

Elaneth followed Haldir around the corner, peaking over his shoulder to peer down the long hallway. She furrowed her brow when she saw no one there. A moment too late, her Elven perception identified a presence behind her. As she and Haldir spun around to face the German men, two more appeared at the far end of the corridor. They ran towards their comrades in a defensive formation to cut off any escape attempts.

Two men grabbed each Elf, but they did not anticipate such physical strength from two such thin and delicate people. Haldir easily threw them off and drew his knife, but Elaneth could not.

"Help us!" called one of the men facing Haldir.

As one man released Elaneth, she fought with all her strength against the second man. She knocked him into the other side of the hallway and drew her own dagger. Not even three men could restrain Haldir, but Elaneth knew very well that one bullet could do what three men could not.

"Stand down," Elaneth demanded, in German, "Or this one dies."

The death of a fellow officer was not a happy occasion, but S.S. had pledged their lives to the Nazi cause. If the success of a mission necessitated death, then it was accepted as necessary. However, Elaneth's demand worked, for she held a superior officer at knifepoint. Haldir moved for the exit with lightening speed, pulling Elaneth along with him.

"After them!" the superior cried. "You dolts! I will die for the Nazi cause if I must! Never do that again! Go!"

The Elves ran with all speed down the deck. Elaneth wished she had not worn her high heels. Haldir pushed her along in front of him, urging her to move faster.

"Now may not be the best time, but tell me, those weapons that they carry …. What is the range on them?"

"On a pistol? Farther than an arrow."

Haldir glanced over his shoulder. "Then you had better run faster."

The S.S. barreled down the deck, pushing through everyone in their way. Those passengers who did not realize Nazi spies were knocking them over called curses in various languages, but the Germans paid them no mind. Their goal was the Elves whom they were steadily approaching.

Haldir pushed Elaneth around a corner just as the Germans opened fire. The other passengers shrieked, and ducked down. The gunfire ceased when the Elves disappeared. A second later, the men rounded the same corner, guns aimed. A handful of passengers cowered on the deck, covering their heads as if a well-placed hand could stop a bullet. The soldiers searched through the people roughly, but found no trace of the Elves.

"Spread out," the superior called.

Two soldiers went to the bow of the boat, looking for any indication that the Elves had jumped overboard. The other two ran down the deck looking in doorways, but they found nothing either.

On the deck below, Haldir and Elaneth stood pressed against the outside wall of the vessel. Haldir motioned for Elaneth to take off her shoes. She did as Haldir commanded without question. On the higher deck, the soldiers made quite a racket looking for them and interrogating passengers. It wouldn't be long until someone informed them that the Elves had jumped over the railing onto the lower deck, or one of the soldiers would look down and notice that the lower deck was wider than the upper deck, and that it was not that far a fall.

Haldir led Elaneth in various directions, winding around the inside of the ship. At last, they came to the grand staircase that led directly to their rooms. Elaneth peered out from behind Haldir. Two S.S. guards waited impatiently at the foot of the stairs, and at the top stood two more.

The Elves ducked back into the hallway.

"There are too many innocent passengers here for a fight," Haldir sighed. "Is there another way to our rooms?"

Elaneth nodded. "There is always a service stairway that the crew uses. I don't know where it is."

"Then we had better start looking."

* * *

The Elves in the dining hall finished their breakfast, slowly coming into better moods. Tension hung in the air, but the danger seemed far removed from their location.

"I think I shall return to my room," Elladan said. "There are many things I have questions about. I need to look again at the map of Europe."

"You should have that memorized by now. You've been studying it nonstop since Mithrandir gave it to us," Legolas laughed.

"And every time I see it, I see something new."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas stood from their seats and exited the hall lazily. Spring had come early to the North Atlantic. The sun was high, the smell of the sea reminded them pleasantly of Valinor, and a gentle breeze blew in from the open doors. Though mortals would describe the weather as chilly, the Elves felt none of the coolness in the air.

When they came within sight of the grand staircase, Elrohir quickly ordered his brother and Legolas back. He counted three S.S. soldiers on the staircase, but he could not see all of it.

One of the men turned from his post, distracted for just a moment. He spotted the Elves and gave a cry to his fellow soldiers. From underneath the staircase, four more S.S. men appeared. The German soldiers pushed through the crowd of passengers, eliciting protests and curses.

Legolas and Elrohir drew their knives, but Elladan had other ideas.

"There are too many civilians. Run!" he cried.

They did as he ordered. With nowhere else to go, the Elves reentered the dining hall with full speed. They dodged tables and brushed past waiters. Legolas burst through the door, and headed down the deck. Coming up from that direction were two more S.S soldiers. With nothing else to do, Elladan drew his knife, but there was little chance of defeating these men with only knives.

The six approaching Germans shouted to each other in their harsh language. They seemed to argue about how to attack the Elves, but decided upon no course of action in their hasty attack. The purpose of their shouting became immediately clear when all six attackers lowered their weapons. They could not fire their guns at the Elves without the risk of killing their compatriots.

Seizing the narrow window of opportunity, the three Elves attacked simultaneously. Legolas took two of the soldiers while Elladan and Elrohir turned towards the remaining four. It was an easy match for the Elves. The Germans could not use their guns, and without Elven speed, strength, and senses, there was no hope of capturing the Elves.

Six S.S. men lay dead a few moments later.

"Let's find a way to the room before the authorities come. Elaneth will know what to do."

* * *

Armin waited impatiently for his subordinates to report. Finally, Klaus entered the room. The young boy held his arm out straight and clicked his heels together. Armin saluted in return.

"At ease. What news do you bring me? Are these people captured as Der Führer demands?"

Klaus hesitated. Armin was notorious for venting his anger on the messenger.

"No, Sir, they are not." The Major growled at the soldier. "Sir, in truth I come to report six S.S. soldiers dead."

Armin's eyes widened, then his face set sternly.

"Very well. We initiate the second course of action. Send this telegraph to Berlin." He handed a folded sheet of paper to the boy. "And get those bodies cleaned up before the authorities come. Identity of S.S. soldiers cannot be found out."

"What do we do with the bodies, Major?"

"Follow protocol. Throw them overboard. Kill anyone who tries to stop you."


	8. Through the Night

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Seven**

"**Through the Night"**

Elaneth expected ship security to knock on the door at any moment. The five Elves were sitting in the living area in Elladan and Elrohir's room, waiting for the inevitable. Elaneth paced the floor, but nothing ever happened. Occasionally, one person would speak, but the conversation died quickly.

"Why in Angband would the Nazis send fourteen S.S. men onto one cruise ship after just five people?" Elaneth asked.

"Perhaps their leader knows of the strength of Elves," Legolas offered.

"It is becoming clearer that Hitler is who we are after," Haldir said.

They fell silent again for a long while. The tension grew thicker in the air as the minutes passed by, but nothing happened.

"What do you think they will do now?" Elladan asked.

"You can never tell with the S.S. They did not seem to want us dead before. Perhaps we are targets for assassination now," Elaneth replied.

"How do you know that?" Elrohir wondered aloud.

"If we were meant to be killed, they would have shot us before we saw them. They tried to incapacitate Haldir and me. They never even drew their guns," she answered.

"So, what is the plan?" Elladan asked. "You know more of their tactics than us."

"We sleep in one room for the remainder of the voyage and keep a watch," Elaneth answered.

They all agreed that this was the best course of action. One by one, they went to their rooms and gathered their belongings. They stayed in a formation of four, arrows nocked, each Elf facing a different direction as they crossed the hall and searched the empty rooms. They found no soldiers hiding in the rooms and none lurking in the hall. Their fears did not subside, however, for danger still hung in the air.

Within an hour, they had settled into Elladan and Elrohir's suite. The trunk full of weapons sat open in the center of the room. Around the trunk, the Elves spread out their bedrolls. The ellyn gave Elaneth one bed, and the others agreed to rotate using the two remaining beds. The Elves discarded the modern suits in favor of their more comfortable and functional warrior uniforms.

Elladan looked at the lavatory door. Elaneth had gone inside to "prepare herself," as she had put it. It unsettled him to find that the elleth had packed her bow and sword in the trunk. She claimed to know archery and swordplay, but admitted she had rarely needed to use her skills. The weapons were now lying beside her bed with a quiver full of arrows leaning against the headboard.

When Elaneth emerged from the restroom, she was dressed in a similar manner as the ellyn. Her braided hair revealed the gently pointed tips of her ears for the first time. She wore gray leggings and tunic with a forest green leather jerkin that fell to her mid-thighs. It was much simpler than anything the other Elves wore, but clearly of primitive Silvan design.

"I will keep first watch," Elrohir volunteered. "I cannot sleep now."

The others lay down, although they were not tired. They had all experienced battle, even Elaneth, and time for rest was a precious commodity. One could never be sure when the next bit of sleep would come, or for how long it would last.

The next several days passed by uneventfully, and this only heightened the Elves' anxiety. It was the calm before the storm, and they all knew it.

Elaneth requested that the crew deliver meals to their room, which they did gladly. It was not like Elaine Livingston to isolate herself, but they said nothing about it. Nor did they mention the strange clothing she now wore. They rumored amongst themselves that she was simply too young to be in government and had cracked.

Time passed slower as the voyage across the Atlantic drew to a close. The S.S. had remained silent since the day the Elves had killed the six soldiers. They were now only three days out from the port in Dover where the ship would make berth.

Elaneth taught the Elves some useful phrases in both English and German. She was not qualified to teach language, however, so her lessons were simple imitations of sound. They learned quickly, for Elves love languages. German would prove infinitely more useful on their quest, but Elaneth hated to speak it. In her mind, the language was synonymous with cruelty.

"What are you reading?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth folded down the front cover for him, and then remembered that he could not read English.

"Out of Africa," she answered. "It is a wonderful book."

"What is it about?"

Elaneth knew that he would not understand if she told him the plot. The Elves had not yet realized that race no longer referred to species, but skin color.

"It is a book about justice, the human condition, and modern morality."

Haldir sneered at her comment. "A book about what is wrong with humans."

"No," she said, defensively. "It is an exploration of what it means to be alive. It applies to all living creatures. It just happens to be about humans."

"Because they think they are the only race in this world."

"It's not their fault that their ancestors forgot about us. I think it's ironic that you're discriminating against a book about discrimination."

"Humans forget too easily. All they do is twist the world into everything the Valar did not intend it to be."

"You dare to presume to know what the Valar intended!" Elaneth cried.

"I have lived among them for several millennia. I have some idea of what their intent was in shaping Arda, and I have seen how men have ruined it."

"It is not their fault."

"How is that? They have lived alone in Arda for thousands of years."

"Exactly my point. Their lives are so short. The average American lives only sixty-five years. In that short time, it is hard to accomplish anything to fulfillment. One man may have a brilliant idea. It is good and pure, but he cannot complete the task in his lifetime, so another man takes up his work. However, this man sees the idea as imperfect, so he changes it. What was once good and pure is little by little misinterpreted and twisted. Over thousands of years, it becomes the bane of society. They do their best. I have watched them do their best."

Haldir scoffed at her. "You feel so much for these humans. You know so little of their history."

Elaneth could not contradict his point. Every person in the room was millennia older than her. She settled back into her chair and opened the book again without another word.

* * *

Haldir sat on watch in the darkened room staring out the porthole. Only a few stars were visible through the small window, but it lifted some of the burden from his heart to see them. His bow lay in his lap with an arrow nocked. He could not bring himself to face the door, however. Staying inside the suite for so long without sunshine or fresh air was wholly unnatural. He did not think he could tolerate it for another day. All day long, they listen to the boxed device Elaneth called a radio, but the music it played did not appeal to him. He and Legolas had checked the fletching on every arrow in the trunk, but they were all perfect. They had resorted to seeing who could draw and nock an arrow faster. To his dismay, Legolas won every time. Elladan would not allow them to spar because the sounds of clashing swords would bring the crew to their cabin in a heartbeat.

A quiet click in the hallway caught Haldir's attention. He spun around to face the door, listening carefully. He heard the sound once more, but he felt no menace or danger close by. The S.S. guards were still on the vessel, but they were far away and subdued. He rose from his place and cautiously went to investigate. The hallway was well lit and empty. Light spread along the floor from underneath the door of Elaneth's room.

The door stood slightly ajar, but shut enough that the lock clicked when he pushed it open. Haldir stepped into the empty room, his bow now drawn. Without warning, the lights went out, and a knife pressed into Haldir's neck. The blade was a curved Elven hunting knife.

"Elaneth, it is I, Haldir."

Elaneth pushed him across the room, and the lights flicked back on. She stood in front of him, seething with anger.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

"What are you doing in here?" he countered.

"That is not your concern."

"It is when I am charged with your protection."

The elleth narrowed her eyes. "I snuck out of the other room without alerting you."

The march warden took a deep breath, willing himself to let the comment go.

"Let us return to the other room before anyone wakes."

"I have business here. I will be back shortly."

"Come now."

"I am protected," she argued, motioning to her bow and a single arrow lying on her bed. "Contrary to your belief, I am neither a child nor a helpless maiden."

Haldir steeled himself. "That is little protection against such weapons as the Germans carry. I insist that you return immediately, Princess Elaneth."

The elleth's ire was palpable. She stepped close to Haldir, every bit of her anger present on her face.

"I cannot concede, Master Elf."

She spat the last words with such venom that Haldir nearly stepped away, but he did not. He grabbed her arm, and pulled her across the hallway. He forgot the electric light switch, leaving the bulbs to burn through the night. Elaneth protested and struggled, but she was no match for Haldir's strength. He shut the door behind him, and blocked her path.

"I have met many insolent, spoiled ellyth in my time, but you are by far the most arrogant, Elaneth. You could not fight off two men who threatened you with no weapon, yet you think you could best them with one arrow?"

The elleth's mouth opened and closed.

"Perhaps you have experience in combat, as you say. It appears, however, that your survival has been due more to luck and those around you than your own skill."

Elaneth stood up straight, and lifted her chin at Haldir.

"I am going to bed."

Haldir snorted, but said nothing. He did not care if she thought she had won the conversation. She was safely inside the common quarters, and that fulfilled his responsibility to keep her safe.

Later, he turned his eyes to the bed where Elaneth slept. Her breathing was deep and steady, the sign of peaceful sleep. He growled under his breath. Fear of the Germans was always present in her eyes. How could she sleep so deeply? He doubted her experience in battle, too. If she were a soldier, she would never allow herself to sleep so soundly.

Legolas relieved him from the watch half an hour later, but Haldir found that sleep did not come easily. His mind kept turning to that intolerable elleth in the bed across the room. She was a wood-elf, yet she delighted in history and politics like the Noldor. She knew at least seven tongues of Men, yet could hardly carry a conversation in Quenya. She had hinted that Elves had suffered persecution at the hands of men, yet she defended their actions vigorously. Germans frightened her, yet she refused protection. She was in all ways unfathomable.

* * *

Legolas stood in the center of the suite, his eyes closed. He searched for the malevolent force he felt all around him. As the seconds ticked by, the silent warning became clearer. A sound akin to rushing water rang in his ears, and a wave of danger washed over his senses. Some evil approached; something meant for the Elves. It did not carry the same weight as the German S.S. It was far worse. His eyes snapped open.

In that moment, many things happened at once. An ear piercing blast filled the air, the entire cruise liner pulled to the left, and the ship tilted dangerously forward. The Elves were alert immediately, their hands on their weapons, but bows and swords could not help them. The sounds of grinding metal and the stopping of the ship's engines shortly preceded the failing of the lights and a blast of water thrusting open the door to the suite.


	9. The Storm

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Eight**

"**The Storm"**

"Bloody Germans!" Elaneth cried, leaping from the bed. "Grab the weapons."

The Elves did as she ordered without a word. The water was rising at a dangerous rate, and the front of the ship sloped down at a sharp angle. Haldir fought his way to the door against the flow of water. The emergency lights flashed red, giving the Elf only brief glimpses of the best exit route.

"What is happening?" Legolas called, above the din of the rushing water.

"The ship is sinking," Elaneth replied.

Legolas caught only bits of her explanation. Through the chaos of rising water, flashes of red, and screams from the people on the lower decks, the Elf had a hard time concentrating on Elaneth.

"Germans … submarine warfare … torpedo."

The Elves did not understand the words, but they did not need words to assess the situation. They had never imagined that such a thing could happen. Elven boats sank only under the most extreme circumstances. They followed Haldir through the door, carrying only their weapons. Legolas pushed Elaneth through the door before him, to keep her in the center where she would be the most protected. Elrohir and Elladan followed after Legolas.

The top level of the ship had two exits, giving the Elves only two escape routes. If they chose the first, they would have to fight the suction of the water and go up, towards the farther exit. If they chose the second, they would have to slide down with the current to the closest exit and risk drowning in the rushing water. Haldir followed his instincts and moved towards the area with the least amount of water. He wished Elladan could lead them, but he had no experience in this situation either.

Elaneth followed Haldir's example and pulled herself up the hallway by grabbing onto the door handles and bracing her feet again the wall. She followed directly behind him, praying aloud to Ilúvatar. Her voice shook, and her words were desperate and fearful. Being the weakest of the group, she struggled to carry through with the same movements as the ellyn. The water rose quicker than the Elves escape, but Elaneth couldn't climb any faster.

The water had risen to Elladan's chest, but the Elf would not give up. He and Elrohir switched sides of the hallway, climbing up as fast as they could on the opposite wall. Legolas gave Elaneth a boost from behind, and she smiled gratefully as she reached for the next doorknob. She clung to it with one hand and stretched for the next one, but the unlocked handle twisted, sending her down into Legolas's free arm. The wood-elf struggled to hold on to her, but she had hit him with such force that he was nearly ripped from the wall.

Elaneth cried out as she slipped from Legolas's grip and tried in vain to cling to his wet hand. She hit the water with wide eyes, and a perfect "O" formed on her lips. Beneath the surface, she looked around frantically for anything to save herself with, but the water pulled her down too quickly. All around her was blackness, and she was cold. Ilúvatar help her, but she, an Elf, was cold. Her arms flailed helplessly and panic churned in her stomach.

Haldir turned to see Elaneth fall from Legolas's grasp. Legolas tried desperately to grab her, but his own fingers were slipping. The march warden plunged into the murky depths of the water. The submerged red emergency lights colored the saltwater every few seconds, and by the red light Haldir spotted Elaneth. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and swam with all the strength he had in his legs. The elleth's arms latched onto him immediately, and her thrashing limbs quieted to strong swimming strokes meant to help propel them to the surface.

The suction pulled hard against them, but the endurance of the two Elves proved greater than the power of the water. Elaneth broke the surface first, gasping for air. She felt herself both pushed and lifted at the same time. Within seconds, her feet landed on solid ground. She turned to the Elf who held her around the waist in confusion. Worry creased Elrohir's face, and his lips moved, but Elaneth couldn't hear his words.

She and Elrohir stood in the exit. Below them, Legolas helped Haldir out of the water. The whole world seemed distant to Elaneth as she surveyed the situation. She had almost died, but Haldir had saved her. Again.

The hallway tilted at a dangerous angle, nearly standing straight up. The realization shocked her back into the moment. She still could die, and four other Elves along with her. With startling composure, she pushed past Elrohir and dangled out the exit.

"The life boats are filling with water!" Elaneth cried.

Legolas reached the niche at that moment. He judged the speed of the water, and shook his head. The current was as strong as Anduin near Rauros. Elrohir saw his reluctance and surveyed the situation himself.

"The Bruinen was not navigable. There were far too many waterfalls and rapids."

"And the Celebrant?" Legolas asked.

"Used often," Elrohir responded.

He felt guilty as he realized he had just skirted this dangerous task, and that by his answer he had pushed that duty onto Haldir, who had just risked his life to save Elaneth.

"Haldir!" Legolas called. "Hurry. You and I have some work to do."

The march warden saw what Legolas meant to do as soon as he looked out the exit. He leapt into the water immediately, and Legolas followed him. Elladan was now behind Elaneth, breathing heavily. The climb was faster by switching sides of the hallway, but crossing over to the exit had made up for it.

They waited with held breath as Legolas and Haldir disappeared from sight. Elaneth's lips moved in Elvish prayers, but no words came from her mouth. The water was thigh deep in the exit and rising.

The minutes stretched on like hours, and every inch the water rose felt like a foot. Then a rope landed in the water beside the exit. The three Elves grabbed it and pulled with all of their strength. At last, the lifeboat appeared before the exit, and the two wood-elves lifted Elaneth in, Elrohir and Elladan climbing in last.

Far off in the distance, a rocky, jagged coastline awaited them. Flashing red and blue lights began to appear on that spot of land one by one. There would be rescue crews out soon.

Groaning metal brought the Elves' attention back to the HMS King Edward. Behind them, the great British ship made its last stand before disappearing beneath the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Each Elf wondered silently how many people were trapped in the vessel. They whispered Elvish prayers for the unknown fate of those souls. As Elaneth looked around, she counted almost sixty-five lifeboats. Those boats held only a small fraction of the people aboard the ship. Her heart cried out in protest at the unfairness of it all.

Across the water, numerous rescue boats rang bells at intervals. Then all fell silent as they waited for replies. Elaneth shuddered as fewer and fewer survivors answered. Finally, they reached the shore where a swarm of rescue workers attempted to document the survivors' names and find them lodging.

A woman rushed by and threw a blanket around Elaneth's shoulders. She disappeared before the elleth could thank her. Another rescue worker approached the Elves and neatly printed their names on a roster.

"Are you missing anyone in your party?" the worker asked.

"No, we're all accounted for," Elaneth answered. "May I ask … where are we?"

"You're on the West Irish coast, Miss Livingston, just an hour drive from Ennis."

Elaine nodded. "How can we get there?"

"We've got every volunteer within fifty miles making the rounds with their own cars. It might be a while, Miss, but we'll get you there."

Elaneth led the Elves to an empty patch on the beach and explained what the rescue worker had said. Haldir sat down next to her. He rubbed her arms, trying to keep her warm. It had been a long time since the others faced such weather conditions, but he doubted Elaneth ever had.

"Are you alright, Elaneth?" he asked.

The elleth nodded, and leaned into his warmth. By Ilúvatar, she was freezing! She couldn't ever remember feeling cold before.

"That was a planned attack," Elaneth stated, bluntly, "because of us."

"You can't prove that," Legolas muttered.

"You think it is coincidence that the threat of the Nazis practically disappeared just before the ship was torpedoed? No, Legolas. The S.S. men got off the ship before the attack. We've found our culprit."

When the sun began to shine over the horizon, a man offered to drive them to Ennis. The Elves squeezed into his tiny car, but they did not complain about the lack of space or the man's fondness for abruptly slamming on the brakes. They had faced a danger far worse and survived.

Elaneth arranged for very acceptable accommodations in Ennis by using what she called a telephone. The US ambassador to Ireland had made the payment by wire transfer and invited Elaine to come stay at the Embassy in Dublin the next day. He even offered to send a car to pick them up. Elaneth thanked him graciously and agreed to accept his hospitality.

"This is our room for tonight. The hotel is restricting each party to one room," Elaneth announced. "Tomorrow we go to Dublin. Perhaps we should take some rest. We have a long drive across Ireland tomorrow."

When the ellyn woke the following morning the hotel room was empty. New modern suits were lying in a neat pile on the bed. Elaneth appeared only after everyone had dressed and had begun to wonder where she was.

"Everything is prepared," she said, stepping into the room. "The Ambassador's car is waiting at the back exit."

"Why the back?" Elladan asked.

"The S.S. men think we are dead. We should keep it that way for as long as possible."

The trip across Ireland went rather smoothly. There were very few towns in the center of the lush country, and those that they did come across were only small provincial settlements. The rolling hills and meadows were the perfect medicine for the Elves, and Elaneth was glad of it, knowing that they would soon see only towns like Boston.

They did not arrive at the U.S. Embassy until nightfall. Ambassador Franklin Jeffers and his wife Minnie greeted them warmly. Elaneth introduced the Elves as her friends from Finland, hoping to keep conversation between the Elves and the Ambassador to a minimum. To Elaneth's horror, the Ambassador turned to the Elves and greeted them in Finnish.

"Tervehdys. Elainen ystävät ovat myös minun ystäviäni. Tervetuloa kotiini."

The Elves furrowed their brows, and waited for Elaneth to translate. When she did not, Legolas asked her what the man said, in Sindarin.

Ambassador Jeffers frowned. "I haven't spent much time in Finland, I'm afraid. I did accompany Ambassador Collins to Helsinki once. Forgive my mispronunciation."

The Ambassador's wife ushered everyone in the dining hall. She stumbled over the few Finnish words she knew, and did not seem surprised when the Elves understood nothing that she said. Elaneth almost laughed at the woman. No doubt the lady meant her words as greetings, but she was unknowingly bidding them farewell and wishing them a safe trip to Sweden.

"Elaine," Franklin said, tugging lightly on her arm.

"Yes?"

Apprehension etched premature lines onto his face, and he glanced several times towards the dining hall before speaking.

"Are you quite sure that those men are your friends?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean no offense, Elaine. It's only that … well …. That blond one who spoke to you. That language he spoke was not Finnish, Elaine."

Elaneth cursed silently. She hoped that Franklin had not noticed, but the man was too well-traveled.

"You're right," she admitted. "That was … Welsh."

Franklin's eyebrows rose. "Why is a Finn speaking Welsh?"

Elaneth's eyes darted around the room while she searched for some excuse. "Because … he is Welsh?"

"I thought he was Finnish."

"He … moved. He grew up in Wales."

"And he doesn't speak English?"

She shook her head slowly, knowing she had just talked herself into a corner. "He grew up … far away from … the English border."

The Ambassador frowned deeply at the elleth. "Keep your secrets then, Elaine, whatever they may be, and let us enjoy dinner together."

The Ambassador's table was laden with every variety of food available in Ireland. The wine flowed freely, and the atmosphere was light and friendly. No danger troubled the Embassy, the effects of which allowed the Elves to lower their guards. Weariness from over two weeks of barely any rest set upon them after their appetites were sated. The soft feather beds in their rooms would cure that fatigue.

"I didn't know you were aboard the King Edward, Elaine," Franklin said. "I was quite shocked to hear from you."

"It was a last minute arrangement," Elaine answered. "We are on our way to London to visit the Prime Minister."

The Ambassador nodded knowingly. "You are the best candidate for such things. That campaign for war in '39 hurt Thatcher then, but those villains up at Capitol Hill are kicking themselves now for not doing the same."

"When did the Germans resume their tactic of sinking anything that moved in the Atlantic?" Elaine asked.

"With your cruise liner, I'm afraid. Bloody Germans."

The elleth sighed sadly. Her suspicion was correct, then. The Germans sank the cruise liner to kill the Elves, not to harm the British and American morale.

"What news from the front?" she continued.

"More of the same," he sighed. "Trench warfare again, just like the last time." He shook his head. "It's a damn shame that so many boys are dying for five feet of ground. American troops should arrive there soon. Fresh soldiers will help."

Throughout the conversation, Elaneth translated for the Elves. She spoke Quenya because of its similarities to Finnish, though she was not entirely comfortable with the language. The Elves seemed to glean some wisdom from the words she pronounced correctly. Mostly, however, words such a "trench" meant something vastly different to them than it did to Elaneth.

"We will need to leave immediately. I shall already be a day late for my meeting with Prime Minister Churchill," Elaine said.

Franklin waved a hand in the air while he drained his wine cup. "Winston will understand! Christ, girl! The Germans have just resumed unrestricted submarine warfare on the ship you were aboard!"

"Still," Elaine insisted. "We should be off."

Franklin sighed. "I suppose so, but I would not recommend sailing through the Irish Sea. I'll arrange for an aircraft to take you to London."

Elaneth looked worried, but there was no other solution. The S.S. men had probably figured out exactly where they were already, and sailing was not an option because another U-Boat would follow. An airplane was less mechanically safe than a ship, but RAF pilots would escort them into Heathrow.

"We should leave early in the morning," Elaine suggested. "It would be easier for the pilot to fly in sunlight."

The Ambassador smiled at the elleth. "I'm sure the pilot will appreciate your empathy."

The Elves retired for the night shortly after dinner. Their rooms were stocked with everything they could ever need, but the Elves of Valinor didn't know what most of the items were. Toothbrushes, hand lotion, and shower caps were not everyday items in Middle-earth and Valinor, but Elaneth was utterly delighted with these things.

When all the lights in the Embassy's upper floors had gone out, a lone figure crept through the hallways, flitting from shadow to shadow and making no noise as they passed door after door. The phantom counted the doors silently, finally selecting the third door on the left. The brass handle clicked, but the occupant did not wake.

For a moment, the shadow lingered in the door, caught off guard by the sight. The Elf lay in his bed, sleeping peacefully and unaware of the intrusion. His blue eyes were opened, but unseeing. He appeared almost gentle, as if his compassionate soul came through only when he slept. His golden hair was unbraided and tousled, softening his usually stern face.

The shadow moved from the door, and it clicked shut once again. A stream of moonlight entered the room through a crack in the curtains, framing the intruder in pale silver light. Elaneth eased herself onto the bed next to Haldir, being careful not the wake him. She brushed a strand of his hair away from his eye and twisted the soft tress of gold between her fingers. She wondered if Haldir only looked like this when he slept, or if this was his true personality hidden beneath his duties as a march warden. Haldir's strong hand closing around her fingers brought her back from her reverie.

"Did you come here only to play with my hair?"

Haldir fought the smile threatening to break through, but Elaneth looked so guilty. She pulled her hand away and stood up.

"I … I'm sorry," she murmured, as she stood to leave.

Haldir sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for Elaneth to sit next to him.

"Do you have a purpose being here?" he asked.

"Yes, I do. I wish to clear any ill feelings between us before we begin our journey into Europe. What we have faced pales in comparison to the danger of traveling through Occupied Territory."

"If that is your intent, then I forgive you."

Elaneth clenched her jaw. She fought the urge to hit him.

"And I forgive you for being a pompous ass."

Quite unexpectedly, Haldir began to laugh. His reaction surprised the elleth. She had not heard Haldir laugh once since his arrival in Boston nor did she think he would find her comment humorous. She certainly didn't intend it to be.

"Is that what you think of me? You think I am a pompous ass?"

"Yes."

He laughed harder, clearly overjoyed by such an admission.

Elaneth bit her lip to stifle her laughter, but allowed a smile. She had found Haldir to be quite the opposite of what she had expected, and she didn't want to turn the tide. Haldir reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"You should not hide your ears. They would be admired in Valinor as the perfect Elven-ears."

Elaneth looked at him strangely. "That is an odd comment. Is that a usual compliment Elves share?"

The march warden chuckled softly. "No, because not many Elves have perfect ears." Elaneth laughed, finding this conversation had moved to a ridiculous topic. "Arwen had perfect ears."

Elaneth sobered immediately. "Why do you compare me to her? She is Undómiel, second in beauty only to Lúthien."

"That is in the eye of the beholder."

The elleth looked at him in wonder. She did not know how many layers he hid under his tough visage, but she hoped this was the last.

"If all between us is in good standing, then I shall take my leave."

Elaneth slipped from the march warden's room. The moonlight lit her path well enough through cracks in the curtains. Her mood was much lighter, and a happy smile graced her lips. Perhaps the march warden was not so terrible, despite his reluctance to see that men were not all evil.

The elleth entered her quarters and flicked on the light switch. She stiffened immediately. Something was not right.

* * *

**Translation**: _Tervehdys. Elainen ystävät ovat myös minun ystäviäni. Tervetuloa kotiini._Greetings. Any friend of Elaine's is a friend of mine. Welcome to my home.

Thank you to the lovely Ilmatar for the translation.


	10. The Heir of Numenor

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Nine**

"**The Heir of Númenor"**

Haldir gazed intently at the door. The air seemed stiff, almost poisoned. He had felt the same stillness in the air many times. Nature reacted to that which opposed it, things that were dark and brooding cast intangible shadows upon the balance of the world. Elves had a sense of that unbalance. Haldir felt it now.

One single sound signaled to the Elf that his feelings were correct. Something heavy dropped on a carpeted floor, but the vibrations in the air were threatening. Danger was near, but it was not concentrated on him. He reached for the malevolent force with his mind, seeking the source of his malcontent.

In a flash, he exited his quarters and slipped into the hallway. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas stood in the corridor already, hands poised upon their swords. They were closer to the mysterious darkness, and therefore felt it first. Upon seeing each other, it became obvious that whatever threatened them assaulted Elaneth first.

They silently fell into a formation and approached the elleth's room. The door stood slightly ajar and the lights were on, but there was near silence in her quarters. They felt her presence, unmoving not far from the door. She knew something waited for her. There was another sound, so slight it was barely noticeable. Breathing.

The quiet ended abruptly. A heavy footstep hit the floor, and a moment later, a man appeared in the hallway. He was dressed as the S.S. men had been in a dark trench coat and fedora, yet he looked startlingly different. He held Elaneth firmly in his grasp. He faced the sons of Elrond and Legolas, but Haldir's presence was unknown to him.

The elleth squirmed against him, causing the pistol to press against her temple more firmly. She cursed under her breath. He had been hiding in the one place she did not expect: in the window frame behind the curtain. It took too much patience, too much poise, and too much stealth for a human to do such a thing. Yet this man had.

"Tell them to put down their weapons," the man said, in broken German.

"You tell them," Elaneth spat.

"They would not understand me."

"Perhaps they would if you spoke better German, traitor."

The butt of the pistol crashed against Elaneth's temple. A blinding pain seared behind her eyes. She fought to regain control of her mind. Her body slumped forward, and her eyes squeezed shut. It was the perfect opportunity, yet the pain was so sudden, she could not grasp it. Her dagger was so close to her hand, and so far from the man's mind. The man pulled her back against his chest, and the chance to escape was gone.

"He wants you to lower your swords," Elaneth said, in Sindarin.

"There is no honor in holding an elleth in front of you," Legolas said, stepping forward. "Release her and fight us honorably."

"Italians have no honor, Legolas," Elaneth sneered. "They follow whoever will grant them the most."

"What are they saying?" the Italian barked. "Tell me or I will kill you."

"They say you are a boorish WOP--"

The Italian cocked the hammer of his gun in thoughtless rage. Elaneth closed her eyes, only to feel the gun fall away from her. It hit her shoulder and bounced to the floor. Her eyes snapped open, then closed again in horror. Lying at her feet was the pistol with the Italian's hand still attached, one finger on the trigger.

The assassin betrayed himself to the Embassy guards by shrieking in agony. On the floors below them, the Elves heard the Irish sentinels mobilizing. Elaneth spun around. Haldir stood there with his sword at the Italian's throat. Trails of blood dripped down the shining silver sword and splattered on the white carpet.

"That is two times in as many days, Elaneth," Haldir said. "Perhaps I should give you lessons in self-defense."

A smile touched her lips for just a moment. She turned away from the Italian's handless arm, unable to look at the gruesome sight of stringy tendons and muscle.

"What is this?"

The man who spoke was the highest ranking officer among the Embassy guards, a Sergeant Major in the Marines. Elaneth judged from the number of rectangular flags and metals on his uniform that he had seen nearly all the horrors war could generate. Except a one-handed Italian held at sword-point by an Elf.

"He is an Italian assassin," Elaneth stated, cringing as she turned to glance at him. "He was waiting in my room."

"Germans and Italians," the Sergeant sighed, shaking his head. "You must have said something in one of your speeches to really piss them off."

Elaneth nodded. "I am beginning to regret my harsh words."

She knew this was not the reason the Axis forces were following them, but if the Sergeant Major needed to believe that, Elaneth would let him.

"We will guard your rooms for the remainder of the night, Miss Livingston," he continued.

The elleth shook her head. "He came in through the window."

The solider started at this statement. They were on the sixth floor of the Embassy.

"We will not sleep this night, however."

The Elves gathered in Elaneth's room simply because it was in the center of the corridor, and that was where the soldiers chose to stand. Elaneth was clearly concerned about the event, but she would not speak about it unless directly questioned.

"Do not trouble yourself about this, Elaneth. You could not fight him with his weapon against your head," Elladan said, attempting to console the elleth.

Elaneth shook her head. "Nay, Elladan, that is not what troubles me."

"Then what does?" Elrohir asked.

She wracked her brain trying to think of way to explain such a thing to them, but without hours of political science lessons, she would be unable to make them comprehend.

"Italy is not the superpower that Germany is. Mussolini copies Hitler like an admiring younger brother, yet he lacks in every area. Hitler controls Mussolini like a marionette. Compared to the German S.S., Italian _Fasci di combattimento _are damn near laughable. They have none of the skill that the Germans do and inspire no fear. I cannot understand why Mussolini would attempt to accomplish what Hitler cannot."

"This reminds me very much of the War of the Ring," Legolas said. "So many mysteries, yet clearly leading to one person."

The others nodded.

"That is what frightens me," Elladan admitted. "If it is the Dark Lord we seek …"

He did not finish his thought, but he did not need to. Elaneth shook her head, wishing to Ilúvatar that the Allies would win before they were forced to confront Adolph Hitler.

An hour before the sun rose, the Elves were ready to leave Ireland. Elaneth tried to prepare them for the flight to London in an airplane.

"The driver is ready to take us to the airfield," she announced.

"What is an airfield?" Elladan asked.

She struggled for an answer. "It is where we will get on the vehicle that is to take us to England."

"What is this one like?"

She dreaded saying the words. "It is a flying machine."

The Elves looked at her incredulously. Elaneth wondered if it were possible that they had not yet seen an airplane in the sky. Most of the U.S. Army Air Corps was stationed on the west coast, but commercial airlines carried passengers from New York to nearly every city in the US.

The car ride to the airfield was short, but strangely silent. Elaneth tried and failed to explain the mechanics of an airplane. She had flown before, although she thought it wholly unnatural. She hated it in the best of conditions.

The airstrip was barely more than a barren potato field. The airplane, as Elaneth called it, looked like a giant metal bird. It was smaller than the fell beasts of the Nazgûl, but larger than the eagles of Middle-earth. It was painted garish red with two white strips on the wings.

Three other airplanes of vastly different design sat farther away. Those planes were long and sleek, blue-gray with white English letters on the side, and on the tail of the plane, a painted flag. Men dressed in brown flying uniforms stood beside them.

"Those are RAF pilots," Elaneth said, nodding to the men. "They will escort us safely to London."

"This is Lady Rogue," the commercial pilot said, patting the side of the aircraft. "We'll have you to London in an hour and a half."

The inside of the aircraft was cramped and uncomfortable, just like Elaneth remembered. The seats were fairly new, but wobbled from side to side nonetheless. Just the thought of rocking back and forth during the entire flight made Elaneth nauseous. There was practically no leg room, which for Elves, was terribly inconvenient. A guilty smile touched her lips at the sight of the Elves crunched into their seats; their knees in their chests.

"Fasten the seatbelt," she instructed.

"We need a device to keep us in the seat?" Elrohir questioned.

"I do not feel so confident in this machine," Legolas said.

Elaneth wanted to agree with him, but she said nothing of the sort. There was only one other way into England, and that was far more dangerous than an airplane.

The pilot started the engines and checked the gauges for accuracy. The sound alone caused the Elves to start. They hastily latched their seatbelts, and looked to Elaneth for reassurance. She had nothing to say. The very thought of soaring through the air caused her head to swirl.

"Ready, Miss Livingston?" the pilot asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Try to keep it smooth, Patrick. I hate these things, and my friends have never flown before."

Patrick nodded. "I'll do my best. Turbulence has been reported over the Midlands, however."

Elaneth nearly dropped her head into her hands, but she did not. The taxi down the airstrip was the easiest part of the flight. The moment the wheels lifted from the ground, everything went from bad to worse.

To say that the Elves were uncomfortable would be a vast understatement. Elaneth had been forced into a plane so many times she often forgot about the side effects. Clogged ears and motion sickness were things the Elves had never felt.

They kept up brave fronts, but Elaneth saw their unease. Legolas gripped the armrests of his seat so tightly that his knuckles turned white, Haldir and Elrohir, who were seated by the windows, kept their attention focused solidly on the center of the cabin, and Elladan turned a sickly shade of green. Elaneth almost laughed at the absurdity of putting four Elves of Valinor on an airplane.

"The air is for birds, not Men and Elves," Haldir declared.

"It is the only way to get safely to England," Elaneth said. "I would not endanger us again by taking another ship."

"I do not consider this safe," Haldir replied.

Elaneth was glad she had decided to take a ship to England, even though that ship had been sunk. The new transatlantic flights were nearly ten hours. She was sure the Elves would have had panic attacks in that length of time.

Finally, the plane touched down at Heathrow and the three RAF escorts departed back to their station on a carrier in the Irish Sea.

As the Elves climbed down the stairway to the tarmac, a man standing near the bunker caught their attention. He was dressed in a crisp, dark blue uniform with numerous metals on his breast. At his side hung a thin sword with an intricate gold hilt. He stood over six feet tall, an unusual and impressive height for a Briton. His boyishly handsome faced concealed his age, but in the depth of his sea-gray eyes churned wisdom. The moment the Elves looked at the man, their hope rekindled.

"He is Númenórean," Elladan whispered, almost not believing it. "The line of Elros has endured."

Though it had been many millennia, the Elves recognized the blood of Númenor. It was the first time they had felt that blood line since their arrival. Though it was distinctly changed, it remained forever superhuman in its quality.

"Andre!" Elaneth cried.

She and Andre ran towards each other with arms outstretched. He picked her up and spun her around.

"Elaine!" he grinned. "It has been far too long, love. I could hardly believe it when I heard your voice on the line."

"I am so happy to see you! I thought I never would again."

His brow furrowed. "I was in the last World War, and I survived."

"I meant me. It is a long story, but we're a day late and on an airplane for a reason, Andre. We'll tell you all about it. Right now, however, we must be off. We are being followed by S.S. soldiers."

The man's face grew stern, and his age was suddenly apparent. He briefly scanned the Elves, then turned quickly and led them towards his car.

Andre Walker was an amiable man when German S.S. soldiers were not lurking about. His gray eyes held a spark of joy in them, even in the direst of circumstances. He spoke very little to the Elves on the drive through London, but his Elvish was understandable. It was the same oddly changed Sindarin that Elaneth spoke.

London appeared to the Elves very much like Boston had, but this city was not only metal and smoke. There was an underlying history and culture in everything they saw. Each cobblestone and brick seemed to hold an ancient and profound story. It was clearly an older city than both Boston and Washington, D.C. Perhaps it was the memory of the Shire seeping through the soil that allowed London to retain its history while progressing with the times.

As Elaneth had done in Washington, D.C., she pointed out the major buildings in London. As they passed by the Houses of Parliament, she began a long dissertation about the pros and cons of a Parliamentary system of government which resulted in bewildered looks from the Elves and bored glances from Andre. Buckingham Palace created a quite a stir among the Elves. Apparently, it was a shabby building compared to the Citadel of Minas Tirith.

"Here we are," Andre smiled, turning the car left. "Highgate Village."

"Moving up in the world, I see, Admiral," Elaneth teased.

"What does that word mean?" Legolas questioned.

"Admiral? It is a military rank. He's the second-highest ranking officer in the Royal Navy. He commands the fleet in the Mediterranean."

The Elves looked at the man with a new appreciation. Like Andre, all four of the ellyn were among the highest ranking officers in their realms in Middle-earth.

The road curved through Highgate Village lazily. The higher up in the hills Andre drove, the nicer and bigger the houses became. At last, they reached the crest of hill and turned onto Hampstead Heath. The houses were massive, fit for great Lords and Admirals. Sparse woodlands surrounded each home, offering a bit of privacy in the center of London. The din of city life seemed to fade away in the tree enclosed community.

Andre eased the car into a driveway in front a large white house. A young man waited for them at the front door. Andre introduced him as Colin, his son. He was barely into his teenage years, but as tall and strong as his father. Seated at his feet was a behemoth of a dog.

"Hello, Colin," Elaneth greeted. She patted the dog. "Mellon."

"The dog's name is Mellon?" Legolas asked, bemused.

Colin nodded. "Thranduil chose his name. He said it was fitting for man's best friend."

The boy's Elvish was not as good as his father's, but Legolas understood him well enough. Like Andre, Colin's accent was tonally rich and precise, unlike Elaneth's somewhat slurred American drawl. Elvish sounded better with an English accent, Legolas decided.

The guests were seated in the drawing room, and a middle-aged woman brought them tea. Her hair was gray at the temples, and there were lines around her eyes, but she had a vigorous spirit. She was called Lilly, and she was Andre's wife.

"Would you care to join us, Lilly?" Elaneth asked, politely.

"Oh, dear, no. I can't talk politics. Anyway, I have to go to the grocers and get dinner for tonight. Colin, come with me. I'll need your arms to carry the bags."

He began to protest, but Andre gave him a firm look.

"Yes, mother," he answered, and followed her from the room.

When mother and son left the house, Andre began asking Elaneth and the Elves questions. Most of their conversation was the retelling of past events. Elladan relayed the proceedings at the Council in Valinor, and Elaneth told the story of the past six weeks. Andre listened to all of this with a furrowed brow.

"Then there is only one thing to do," Andre concluded.

The others waited expectantly.

"Get you into Occupied Territory."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_**Fasci di combattimento **_"official" name of the Black Shirts. Italian versions of the S.S.

**Thank you** SpaceWeavil for sorting out my historical and geographical inaccuracies in this chapter. Without her, a majority of you would be laughing right now. Especially, if you're British.


	11. London Burning

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Ten**

"**London Burning"**

"How is it that you seem so familiar to me, Elaneth?" Legolas asked.

He lowered his bow and turned to the elleth standing next to him. Elaneth released the bowstring. Once her arrow was successfully imbedded in the center of the target, she turned to Legolas.

"You are my uncle," she replied.

Legolas's eyes widened. "How has this topic not been addressed until now?"

Elaneth shrugged, as if the information was not important at all. "Most likely because you did not know your younger sister."

He was silent for a long moment. "Younger sister? Adar never mentioned her."

"We do not discuss her. Nor any of the others who rest now with Mandos."

Her tone was stern and final. Though Legolas wished to question her further, he refrained. He noticed how the corners of her mouth quivered. It was no secret that something terrible had befallen the Silvan Elves, but Elaneth would not say what it was. Thranduil had also avoided such areas of discussion.

"You are very good with a bow," Haldir said, joining Elaneth and Legolas.

He examined Elaneth's bow, and found it met his approval. It was smaller than a long bow, but Elaneth probably was not strong enough to use such a bow. The design resembled a bow of the Galadhrim, but lacked the subtle details the Elves of Lothlórien had invested in their work.

"How about a friendly competition?" the march warden questioned.

Elaneth smiled. "Of course, but you must know that you cannot beat us."

"And why is that?"

"Because we both honed our skills in the perilous forest of Eryn Lasgalen. Whilst you, march warden, frolicked happily beneath golden leaves, Legolas and I dodged fell spiders and enchanted streams."

Haldir snorted as he pulled an arrow from his quiver. "Eryn Lasgalen was cleansed of evil long before your birth. And I don't frolic."

Elaneth also retrieved an arrow from her quiver. "It grew dark more than once. Set the targets."

Meanwhile, Elladan and Elrohir stretched out on the grass, and their swords lay unsheathed beside them. Elladan massaged his wrist.

"You really must stop hitting my wrist every time we spar."

Elrohir laughed. "Then keep your hand out of the way."

The twins turned their attentions to the three Silvan Elves. Andre's backyard was not large enough for a full-range practice field, but the archers were creative. They hid targets in the trees and made up complex rules about distance and angle.

"Elaneth is quite good," Elrohir observed.

"She needs some work in hand-to-hand combat," Elladan added. "How many times has she landed herself in trouble already?"

"According to Haldir, men have restrained her twice."

Andre joined them a moment later. A long sword hung from his waist. He unsheathed it slowly, and held it so that the afternoon sun reflected off the cool metal in an arch of yellow light.

"It has been many years since anyone in my family has wielded this sword."

The brothers stood, in awe of the sword Andre held. It seemed that Andre's face changed as he gazed at the sword. He looked sterner, and pride filled his gray eyes. He looked every bit as kingly as Aragorn Elessar. There was no mistaking the Flame of the West.

"That is …? You are …?" Elrohir stuttered.

Andre lowered the sword. "Elaine didn't tell you? She should have. Walker is the rough English translation of Telcontar. If Gondor still existed, I would be King."

The sons of Elrond remained quiet for many minutes, and Andre correctly guessed why.

"Every child born since Eldarion has your sister to thank for life. Among the descendants of Elessar were great leaders of men; Caesars, Kings, Generals. History would read very differently without those men and women. Arwen's choice was not ill-made."

The twins nodded, but didn't speak for a while longer. After several minutes and a silent agreement, they picked up their swords to spar. Andre joined them, Andúril again unsheathed.

"Do you also have the winged crown of Gondor?" Elrohir asked, with a teasing smile.

"I do," Andre responded, seriously. "And I wear it when I feel insecure."

They laughed heartily for a moment, and then Andre motioned for them to sit. The archery contest had drawn his attention. Elaneth was excellent with a bow, but he had heard that Legolas was the best archer in Middle-earth.

"She should remain here," Elladan stated.

Andre shook his head. "She cannot. You will need her knowledge of languages and the modern world. I would take her place, but I would be recognized long before we reached Berlin."

"She cannot defend herself well enough," Elladan insisted.

"True," Andre conceded. "However, whether she remains here at my home or travels into the heart of Germany, she is a target. There is no sense in leaving her behind; she is no safer here. Her reluctance to kill does not mean she will slow your journey into Germany."

"I do not think it is reluctance that inhibits her self-defense," Elrohir answered, honestly.

"Do you not?" Andre seemed surprised. "Then you do not know Elaneth."

Elaneth laid her bow against the trunk of a tree and drank deeply from the glass Andre handed to her. Her skill at archery was no longer in question. Legolas was the victor, as every one had assumed he would be. Haldir, however, was very disgruntled to find himself soundly beaten by Elaneth. He muttered Sindarin curses under his breath as he retrieved his arrows.

How in Arda had she beaten him? She was a youngling! By her own account, she was no more than three thousand winters. Perhaps Greenwood had grown dark once again, and Elaneth truly had learned archery in such an environment. That still did not explain her supremacy.

"I could best her in swordplay," he mumbled.

"Of course you could, Master Elf. You're far stronger than I."

Haldir started at the sound of her voice and eyed her suspiciously. Once again, he failed to notice her presence. Three times she had surprised him. He was a march warden for Ilúvatar's sake! His sole duty was to detect another person's approach. There was something more to this elleth than she would admit.

"You should practice anyway," he answered.

Elaneth shook her head. "We will never get close enough to the Nazis to use hand-to-hand combat. We should fletch arrows."

"Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas engaged them hand-to-hand aboard the ship. I will spar with you, if--"

"We will not need it," Elaneth snapped.

She immediately regretted it. Haldir watched her closely, his brow furrowed, and his mouth set in a thin, firm line.

"There are many more things I must do before we depart."

With those words, she excused herself from the conversation. She returned to Andre, and spoke to him in the English language. Haldir wondered what they said, and why they would not say it in Sindarin.

"She hides some secret from us."

Legolas nodded. "I think more than one, but I trust her judgment in withholding information."

Haldir looked skeptical. He began to speak in a disapproving voice, but Legolas cut him off.

"She is my kin. Is that not reason enough for me to trust her?"

The march warden's expression changed to reflect his surprise. He had known that Elaneth was partly Sindarin, and he had overheard one Elf at Eryn Lasgalen call her Princess, but he had made no further assumptions. She really was full of surprises.

* * *

Andre's wife prepared a wonderful dinner for the Elves. This time, she and Colin joined their conversation at the dinner table. Lilly spoke Sindarin in a way that led the Elves to believe she was uncomfortable with the foreign tongue. She had turned twenty-one before Andre had taught her the musical language, and learning foreign tongues did not come easily to Lilly.

"How will you get into Germany?" Colin questioned, wide-eyed.

The boy had been itching for an adventure ever since his father had told him the history of their family. Like every boy of his bloodline since Eldarion, Colin wanted to be like the Ranger Aragorn.

"I have friends in the Prime Minister's office," Elaneth explained. "They are creating passports for us that say we are Swiss. It will be easier to travel if the Germans believe we are neutral."

"To where are we traveling?" Elladan asked.

"Switzerland," Andre answered. "From there, you can cross into Germany."

The idea did not seem to sit well with Elaneth, but she deferred to Andre's judgment. After all, he was a leader of the British armed forces. Elaneth had lived most of her life in Europe, however. She knew the terrain well, and the Swiss mountains bordering Germany, though they were not the Alps, were not her idea of an easy entry.

Her first impulse had been to travel through France, but there was a much more imminent risk from the Nazis there. Andre had convinced her that flying from London to Zurich was the fastest and safest way to the German border. From there, Elaneth need only speak fluid, coherent German, and they could pass over the border in a rented automobile.

Elaneth seriously doubted the plan. It was far too simple. Fear crept into her voice and eyes every time she thought about speaking to a Nazi. Legolas gently reminded her that she was their only hope of completing their quest. If they did not reach Berlin, the fate of the Maiar would remain unknown.

Legolas stiffened suddenly. He laid his fork down on the plate, and turned towards the nearest window. The conversation trailed off, and they waited for Legolas to speak. He had the sharpest eyes and ears of the Elves, but he said nothing for a very long time.

"I hear something almost familiar, but I cannot place it," he said.

The other four Elves moved to the window, and the three humans at the table tried to stay quiet. Colin even stopped breathing. Whatever Legolas heard was too far away for the others to identify. The minutes ticked by slowly, but Legolas insisted the sound drew nearer. After tense moments, the sound reached the other Elves' ears.

Elaneth's eyes widened, and she spun around to face the humans.

"Turn out the lights!" she ordered.

The urgency in her voice brought Legolas back from his thoughts. The sun had just dipped entirely below the horizon. The Elves were confused, for it seemed logical to turn on the lights as the sun disappeared. The Walkers and Elaneth scrambled around the house, flicking off the electric lights. As they bustled around the house, the four ellyn remained by the window, looking curiously at the sky. They heard buzzing, like a swarm of angry bees. Only, the sound was too loud to belong to bees. Just as the last light flickered off, the shrill wail of air raid sirens alerted London residents of the imminent attack.

Colin was the first one out the door, despite his mother's protest. The others gathered on the patio, looking hard into the darkness. All through the city, lights disappeared until the impenetrable, eerie blackness of the night blanketed London. The airplanes were not visible in the sky, but they were clearly audible.

"Three squadrons," Andre whispered, sadly.

The vibrations in the air increased the closer the German squadrons flew. The loud engines of the bombers did nothing to mask their approach, but the Germans did not need stealth. They had bombs.

"Get inside!" Lilly pleaded.

To the Elves, this seemed an event of magnificent horror equal to that of Saruman's army at Helm's Deep. Danger was palpable in the air, but they did not know exactly what these airplanes planned to do. A new sound accompanied the vibration of the airplanes. It was somewhat akin to the shriek of a Nazgûl, yet longer and more constant. It was not communication or language; it was just a sound.

The Elves reeled in horror as the first bomb exploded. A blast of ear-piercing magnitude echoed through the night. A wave of orange flame lit the night sky as the bomb found its target. In quick succession, five more bombs exploded. Fires sprang up along the path of destruction, lighting the sky to guide the Germans.

The Elves and Walkers watched from a safe distance, saddened and horrified. Soon, the sounds of the sirens, aircraft, dropping bombs, and explosions were inseparable. The sounds were an amalgamation of destruction. Somewhere in the European interior, men lying in trenches saw and heard far worse.

"They are attacking civilians," Haldir stated, at a loss for understanding.

"They did it almost every night two years ago. Now, it's sporadic," Lilly said, wiping away her tears. She turned to Andre. "You don't think they're too close to my sister's house, do you?"

"This is modern warfare?" Elladan asked.

Andre nodded. Elaneth was not the only one who offered an Elvish prayer for the citizens of London. After what seemed like hours of relentless attack, the German fighter planes doubled back across the Channel. They would return again, but no one could say when.

"Come inside," Lilly ordered, guiding Colin through the door. "Go call your Uncle Charlie and Aunt Beatrice. May sure they're all right."

Elaneth crossed the lawn silently. She sat next to Haldir, and held out a glass of Lilly's lemonade to him. The air was chill at such a late hour, but the Elves did not feel it much. While the others had retired to their rooms for a night of fitful sleep, Haldir had sat facing the east since the bombing ended.

"The British are strong," Elaneth began. "The Germans bomb their cities to weaken their morale, but they do not waver. The Prime Minister said that they would defend their homeland, whatever the cost. And they are. The bombings have only strengthened their resolve to win this war."

"Do the British engage in this type of warfare?"

"Well, yes. They would be defeated in an instant if they did not."

Haldir turned to her, clearly unimpressed. "Then how are they nobler than Germany?"

"They were attacked, and they responded."

"This seems noble, yet I have not enough faith in men to accept your statement so easily. Tell me, has Germany just cause to go to war?"

Elaneth hesitated. To most citizens of the world, the answer was negative. Elaneth was a scholar, however, and politics were her field of expertise. She and Thranduil had known at the end of World War I that the peace would not last. The Treaty of Versailles was a disgrace.

"The simple answer is yes. They were grievously wronged twenty years ago. However, it is not the war the Allies resist. Germany does not seek retribution. They seek revenge. At the start of this war, Europe tried to appease Hitler. They made attempts to correct the wrongs done against Germany."

"What wrongs did the German people incur to warrant such a war?"

"It is the treaty of the last world war that led to this war. The Germans were denied the right to choose their own government, lost territory, made to pay extreme reparations for the war, and strict regulations nearly ruined their economy. The German people were blamed for World War I, but the guilt did not belong to them. It was Austria-Hungary who started the war, albeit at Germany's prompting. So great is Hitler's hatred for that treaty that he executed every man who signed the Armistice. He took them to the very spot where they signed the treaty and murdered them."

Haldir smiled ruefully at Elaneth. "I believe, my Lady, that you were correct when you said there is no clear-cut evil in this world."

* * *

Lilly dropped a sack on the kitchen table, and nodded to Elaneth.

"What is this?" Legolas asked.

"We travel to Zurich tomorrow," Elaneth responded. "Switzerland proclaimed neutrality, but it is not strictly enforced. Seventy-five percent of Swiss residents are German. The main industry of Switzerland is banking, and the Germans have plenty of money to invest. They declared neutrality only because of their precarious position. To the west is France, an ally of Britain in this war, but now Occupied Territory. To the north is Germany, to the east is Austria, and to the south is Italy. Needless to say, the Axis powers are much more influential to the Swiss. I have no doubts that S.S. spies will be in Zurich. Therefore, we travel incognito."

Elaneth set a number of items on the table. Among them were combs, scissors, and hair dye. She looked up at the Elves.

"We have work to do if we want to look Swiss. I will leave the twins to you, Lilly. You are much better with dye." She turned back to Haldir and Legolas. "Who wants short hair?"

Haldir snorted in disgust as Elaneth chopped off his warrior braids. For the first time since he was an elfling, his hair was above his shoulders. This hairstyle looked ridiculous to Haldir. She had trimmed his hair to the nape of his neck in the back, and fashioned long bangs in front. The hair hung in his eyes, but Elaneth became angry if he attempted to move the offending locks of hair. His hair was barely long enough to cover his ears, but Elaneth insisted that they must do this.

"This will be most inconvenient in battle," Haldir mumbled.

Legolas nodded his silent agreement. His hair was styled similarly, and he also was not impressed. He looked like an overgrown elfling.

"It is not natural for an Elf to have such short hair," he added.

"You have two options," the elleth proclaimed. "Have short hair for a little while or have a long, long chat with Mandos. You stand out far too much with long hair. It is the first trait the Nazis will be told to look for."

"What about you?" Haldir questioned. "How do you plan to change your appearance?"

Elaneth struggled for an answer. "I have no need for disguise. What is so conspicuous about a long-haired woman?"

Haldir glowered at her reflection in the mirror. She ignored him, however, and finished off the haircut.

The four ellyn were left alone in the family room with Colin and Mellon while the elleth and woman cooked dinner. Andre disappeared for a few hours, saying he was making final arrangements for the Elves to depart.

Colin seemed to think that their haircuts looked very nice. Elladan and Elrohir still looked similar, but it was no longer obvious at first glance that they were twins. Lilly had colored Elladan's hair light brown, but left Elrohir's hair dark. He suffered by having the shorter of the two haircuts.

Elrohir bent over the coffee table, drawing on the map Gandalf had given them. Lilly said they could take the whole atlas of Europe if they wanted, but Elrohir had declined. He corrected the borders, drew in mountain ranges, and labeled cities with painstaking care. It seemed imperative to keep the parchment, despite the extra work.

Andre returned an hour after dinner had finished, but he did not seem to mind. He laid a new passport in front of each Elf. There was no picture in the designated slot, but Andre had brought home a camera.

Elaneth shook her head as the man tried to position each Elf to have his photograph taken. They were far more curious about the box and its light bulb than the practicality of the machine. It took multiple shots for each Elf. No matter how much Andre warned about the flashbulb, every one of them closed their eyes at the flash of light.

"Well, my friends," Andre said. "You should rest this night. I do not think sleep will come easily to you after tomorrow."

The Elves turned in for the night with anxiety and apprehension. Though they had traveled far in this new world and encountered many trials, the worst was yet to come.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you** (again) SpaceWeavil for sorting out my historical and geographical inaccuracies in this chapter. Without her, a majority of you would be laughing right now. Especially, if you're British.


	12. The Last Pure Land

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Eleven**

"**The Last Pure Land"**

Switzerland was cold. Even in mid-April, the temperature barely broke 0°C. Light snow drifted down from the overcast sky, and a fine sheen of slush covered the pavement. The crisp scent of pine trees floated on the wind, reminding Elaneth of Oregon at Christmastime. It was a nice change from the industrial pollution of Boston, Washington D.C., and London. The conifers whispered softly to each other, spreading gossip up the steep incline of the Swiss mountains.

"The trees are speaking," Legolas stated in amazement. "The only trees we have heard speak were at my father's house."

Elaneth smiled. "Yes, these trees speak. Many trees in Europe do. This land was once called Eregion. Caradhas is further to the north, on the Austrian-Czechoslovakian border."

The elleth led them through the Zurich airport. It had been a trying experience to convince the Elves to board another airplane. Andre's logic had won out, however, and they had willingly boarded the aircraft. He had offered them a place to stay on their return journey, and Lilly had baked them modern waybread that Elaneth called "sugar cookies."

"Where are we going?" Elladan asked.

"We will stay in Zurich tonight. Our hotel is not too far away. It is cold, but I would rather walk than hail a cab."

The Elves did not complain. They did not wish to ride in an automobile either. Elaneth's reasoning was more practical. She was reluctant to speak to a Swiss chauffer. Elaneth was fluent in German, French, and Italian; all three major languages of Switzerland, yet she did not speak any Swiss dialect. The predominant language of Switzerland was Swiss-German, but her German would never pass as Schwyzerdütsch.

"When and how do we get to Germany?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth sighed deeply. She still believed Andre's plan was too simple.

"I have decided we should take a train to Berlin. If we drive, the border guards will have an easier time recognizing us because there are only five of us. It will be safer to go through customs at the Berlin train station. There will be hundreds of people, all in a hurry to go about their business. It is possible that we could blend in."

Elaneth nearly laughed at her own statement. Over time, she and Thranduil had become experts at blending in with humans. These Elves, however, were too different from modern humans to blend in. Legolas and Haldir stood a chance because they looked Aryan. Perhaps even Elladan, with his newly dyed hair, looked somewhat like the average German.

"Tonight, we will have a lesson in languages."

"You have already taught us some German," Elrohir said.

"You will need to know more. Elladan, Haldir, and Legolas will at least. I'm going to teach you Italian, Elrohir. You and I can pass as Swiss-Italians; therefore, you should know the language."

The idea seemed agreeable to the Elf. Like all Elves, he delighted in learning new languages. He knew Quenya, Sindarin, Westron, Rohirric, and Adûnaic. He was eager to learn some Italian from Elaneth. She said it was a fluid, musical language derived from Latin, the official language of the Roman Empire.

The Sihl Hotel sat on the banks of the Sihl River. It was an elegant establishment decorated in rich maroon and gold. A massive chandelier hung from the lobby ceiling, and a grand staircase led to the upper floors.

Elaneth lingered at the door. She could not walk up to the front desk with four males and request one room. The impropriety of the situation was likely to get them kicked out of the hotel. Nor could she go alone and pay for one room, then stride up the staircase with four males. She also could not leave the Elves alone and risk someone speaking to them in a language they did not understand.

"Let's go," she said, motioning for them to follow. "Stay a few steps behind me at the desk and talk amongst yourselves quietly."

Elaneth smiled at the woman behind the desk. "Guten tag. Do you have five rooms available for tonight? I am terribly sorry there is no reservation. The date of the banker's conference was changed."

The woman glanced at the Elves, and then nodded with a smile. Elaneth had played the role of personal assistant so many times with Thranduil that it was like a second personality. She handed the woman the correct value in Swiss francs, and accepted the keys. She hated wasting money on rooms they would not use, but it was the easiest way to avoid detection.

Elaneth pointed to their bags lying in the center of the lobby. The woman nodded, and motioned to a bell boy.

"What are we doing?" Legolas asked, glancing around.

Elaneth stood in front of the wall, waiting expectantly as if a door would pop open at any moment. She cast a teasing smile at him, but turned around again. Her sense of humor was not wholly dissipated, even in their present danger. As Elaneth expected, but the Elves did not, the elevator doors opened a moment later. The Elves raised their eyebrows, but followed her into the small box in the wall.

"What is this box?" Elladan questioned, looking around.

"It's called an elevator."

Elaneth pushed a button as she answered. The doors slid shut and a moment later, the floor began to move up. The Elves gasped and clung to the railings. Elaneth's mirth echoed off the steel doors causing her giggles to sound more like roaring laughter. An impish light was in her eyes as she turned to them.

"After all the new inventions you've seen in this world, an elevator startles you?"

The Elves collected themselves and replaced their shocked expressions with cool demeanors. Elaneth was not convinced, but successfully held her tongue.

Four of their rooms remained abandoned as Elaneth had assumed they would. Since their second encounter with S.S. men on the cruise ship, they were reluctant to separate. The incident at the Irish Embassy had only confirmed their opinion that strength was in numbers.

The view of Zurich from their room was breathtaking. Water surrounded the city on three sides. To the south were the crystal blue waters of Lake Zurich. The eastern side of the city was flanked by the Limmat River, and the west by the Sihl River. Just below the window, to the left, the steeple of St. Peter's Church rose high into the sky like a beacon of hope.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and lit the white city with a pale orange glow, Elaneth realized why these people would want to remain neutral. Everything looked so pure and tranquil. Even the speeding cars and rumbling buses faded away at the sight of the snowcapped mountains lined with evergreens in the distance. It would be a tragedy for this beautiful land to be torn apart by war.

"What are you thinking?" Legolas asked.

Elaneth looked up, unaware that she had been so deep in thought.

"I was just thinking about the last time I was here. It was long ago, before the city of Zurich even stood. This is a good land. Little evil has marred its purity."

"Have you been elsewhere in Europe?" Haldir asked.

The elleth nodded. "All over. Up until the last three hundred years, I lived here."

"You mentioned Caradhras before," the march warden continued. "Do you know of other lands that were once Middle-earth?"

"Certainly, though they have changed. Part of Spain, Italy, and Greece is what remains of Gondor. Turkey is Mordor. Scandinavia is Arnor. The Middle-east and part of Africa are Near and Far Harad."

"Do you know about Lothlórien?"

Elaneth smiled brightly at the march warden. "Oh, yes. The forest of Lothlórien is untouchable. Even Hitler will not dare order his soldiers to approach it. It stands in Hungary. It is no longer golden, however, for the mallyrn have changed with the world. Only in the autumn are their leaves golden, and they too fall to the ground with winter."

"We do not have time to visit Lórien," Elladan said, gently.

Haldir nodded. "Yes, I know, but it is good that the power of Lady Galadriel still protects my homeland."

Elaneth did not reply. She did not wish to crush his dream. The power of Galadriel had not endured as Haldir thought. There were many other things that protected the Golden Wood. One of them was the Hungarian economy. They simply were not able to fully industrialize, and therefore, had no need to cut down their forests. If there were other reasons, Elaneth did not know them. She knew only that she had set foot inside the Golden Wood long ago and had felt no enchantment.

"How long is the train ride to Berlin?" Elrohir asked.

"A full day and a night," Elaneth answered. "From Zurich to the border, we can ride in peace. There, however, the train will stop and Nazis will board. From there on, we must be extra cautious."

"Something deeper troubles you," Elladan probed.

Elaneth sighed and continued to gaze out the window. "They are everywhere. I can feel their eyes watching us, but when I turn around, I see nothing." She turned to the Elves. "We are not safe anywhere. They know we are in Switzerland."

The train departed Zurich at eight in the morning. The ellyn were eager to leave behind the Swiss city and continue on their way, but Elaneth was not. The elleth felt fear creeping into her heart even as she left the Sihl Hotel. She felt German eyes on her; watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

As the train whizzed through the Swiss mountains towards Germany, her fear became palpable. Her eyes were forever darting out the window, as if she expected a German tank to roll up beside the train. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, and her hands shook with nervous adrenaline.

For the first time in her life, Elaneth wished to Ilúvatar that she was just another housewife in Oregon; all thoughts bent upon the broken dishwasher and the next load of laundry. If only she had not studied the torture tactics of the Germans. If only she had not seen the pictures of Death Camps taken by MI6 agents. If only, if only. But, such thoughts would get her nowhere.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts. Haldir was speaking to her. His face was stern, but Elaneth saw deep concern in his eyes. She looked down at her lap. Haldir's hand covered both of her shaking hands, squeezing them softly. His was a warrior's hand, strong and steady.

"I will protect you," he whispered.

Elaneth's eyes rose to meet Haldir's. Her fear subsided for a moment, and she believed him. He had saved her every time she had gotten herself into a dire situation. She chastised herself silently. It was his job to protect royals. He had said so himself. Yet, Elaneth could not help but wonder; did Haldir hold the hand of every frightened elleth he protected? Did he look at them as if he truly cared about their well-being?

"Elaneth," Elladan said, moving over to the elleth.

Haldir released her hands as the son of Elrond eased into the chair next to her. The chill she felt in her fingers as he drew away his hand startled Elaneth. She struggled to concentrate on Elladan. She felt the urge to look at Haldir, to gage his thoughts, but she did not.

"It is clear to us all that you are frightened by the Nazis. Honestly, we did not understand all of your explanations about their ways, so we are not afraid of what might happen in Germany. What we have come to understand is how impossible this mission will be without you. Your fear is apparent, and I do not trivialize it. However, you speak much about blending in and going unnoticed. Your fear will certainly inhibit that more than our ears. For the sake of this quest, you must calm yourself."

With a disgruntled scoff, Haldir inserted himself into the conversation. Elaneth's eyes were now wide, as if she were an animal caught in a trap.

"She knows what she must do."

Elladan looked at his old friend strangely.

"I meant only to inform her--"

"She does not need the pressure of your words," the march warden replied, his voice rising.

The two Elves locked eyes for a long, tense moment. It seemed that they fought a battle of wills in that moment. Neither moved nor blinked for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, Elladan lowered his eyes and retreated to his seat beside Elrohir. He cast one more curious glance at Haldir.

The train began to decelerate slowly. Elaneth closed her eyes, willing her fear to subside. She whispered prayers to Lórien, asking him to grant her serenity.

Up ahead stood more glorious snow-capped mountains and a rather quaint city positioned on the side of the mountain, almost hidden from view by trees. It reminded Legolas of Edoras with its thatched roofs and wooden fence. The train slowly pulled into the small station.

"Where are we?" Legolas asked. "Why are we stopping?"

Elaneth took a deep breath. "Just north of Schaffhausen. We are on the border of Switzerland and Germany. Here, Nazi officers board. They will ride the train to Berlin and patrol the aisles. Everything is suspicious to them. If we do not go to dinner, if we go to lavatory too frequently … anything will give them cause to detain us in Berlin."

"Then we should not let them hear us speak Sindarin," Elrohir said, a small smile on his lips.

His jest did nothing to lightened Elaneth's mood. The elleth was terrified.

A moment later, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hall. Two men spoke to each other in German, which the Elves now recognized. The men took their posts in the hallway. One man stood three doors to the left of the Elves' compartment, the other two to the right.

As the train left the station, Elaneth's nerves seemed to calm. The four ellyn could only hope Lórien had answered her prayers for there was no retreat from the quest now. The Nazis were on board, and the train was going to Berlin.

"Have you anything for us to pass the time?" Haldir asked Elaneth. "Perhaps your book? We could learn English."

The elleth shook her head. "Out of Africa is banned in Germany. Besides, I lost it on the ship."

"I found this at the inn," Legolas said, retrieving a box from his pack.

"Telien-rind (Sindarin: Circle game)?" Elrohir asked, studying the item. "Men have kept their strange games."

That the Elves had a word for the item intrigued Elaneth. The box Legolas held was Backgammon. Personally, she found it rather boring.

"You know how to play Backgammon?" she asked.

"Telien-rind," the Elves corrected, in unison.

She chuckled softly. "Whoever titled the game must have taken a few too many blows to the head."

"I will have you know, my Lady," Elrohir began, "that Barahir named this game."

Elaneth held up her hands in defeat. The Elves took turns playing the game, glad for something to distract their minds. As the hours wore on, however, the game began to lose its appeal. Elaneth refused to leave their cabin for lunch. She could not imagine eating with the knots in her stomach. Perhaps she would be hungry enough to eat at dinner.

"I have a plan to get us through customs in Berlin," Elaneth said.

Legolas laid down the dice, the game forgotten. All four ellyn turned their attention to Elaneth.

"If the customs officers think we are Nazis, they will allow us to pass without checking our papers. I put into each of your bags a black trench coat and fedora. All we need are swastika armbands."

"How do we get those?" Elrohir asked.

Elaneth took a deep breath. "We steal them from our guards."

The Elves looked at her as if she had gone mad. She was terrified of these men, yet she wanted to steal from them. Elaneth knew how her plan sounded, but she had very sound logic for plotting such a thing. There was no way she could lead four Elves through customs in Berlin without someone demanding that they speak. If they appeared to be on duty, they would be expected to salute fellow soldiers, nothing more.

"Very well," Elladan said. "How do we do this?"

* * *

Elaneth's eyes flitted around the dining car nervously. At each exit, a Nazi soldier stood with a machine gun. They were both tall, grim men with dark eyes. They surveyed the occupants of the cabin skeptically; they seemed to suspect each and every person of being a spy, a Jew, or a dissenter. Elaneth willed her nerves to calm. As she expected, she ate next to nothing, but made a good show of pushing it around her plate. Elrohir sat across from her, also eyeing the Nazis.

"They are coming," the Elf stated.

Elrohir turned his eyes away from his brother, Haldir, and Legolas as they approached the dining car. He wished to communicate some message of encouragement to them, but he could not risk the guards noticing. He stood and held his hand out to Elaneth. The two Elves walked to the other exit hand-in-hand. As Elrohir passed, his arm brushed against the German guard.

"Apologies, friend," he said, in perfect German.

The guard gave a short nod, but nothing more. As Elaneth graced past him, she caught the Swastika band that fell from his arm and quickly scrunched it into the palm of her hand.

They slipped into the sleeping car without incident. Their part was done. The other three Elves had the more dangerous part of the assignment, however. On the way to dinner, they were to collect one armband from a soldier patrolling the aisle. A second one was to be collected as they entered the dining car. That meant that they had to eat dinner with two armbands in their possession. If they were caught, they would be arrested as spies.

"How long will we keep this guise that we are a married Swiss-Italian couple?" Elrohir questioned.

Elaneth shrugged. "Until it is inconvenient. Certainly, we must maintain this façade until we are through customs."

The Elf chuckled. "Haldir will become jealous."

The elleth furrowed her brow. "Why?"

Elrohir looked as surprised as Elaneth appeared confused. He just shook his head. Elaneth turned her attention to the door of the sleeping car.

"They should be back by now," she said.

Her foot tapped rapidly on the floor and she chewed at her nails. Elrohir had never seen an Elf so nervous before. She was both amusing and worrisome all at once. He wondered if something was wrong with her head, as her behavior was decidedly un-Elven.

"They are warriors, Elaneth. They have faced Uruk-hai, cave trolls, and even a balrog. They will return safely. I will know if any evil befalls my brother."

Twenty minutes later, the three Elves entered the sleeping car. They wore triumphant smiles as they presented Elaneth with two red Swastika armbands. She accepted them, but hesitantly. She loathed the sight of the things. They were symbols of cruelty and hate.

"Fear not, Lady Elaneth, they do not suspect a thing," Legolas said.

The elleth tucked the armbands away in her pack. Tomorrow, she would tie them to the arms of Legolas, Haldir, and Elladan. She had no doubts that they would pass as S.S. or Gestapo, whichever title onlookers choose to assign. She and Elrohir would go through customs as a married Swiss-Italian couple.

She prayed to Ilúvatar that her plan would work. For if it did not, they would learn the cruelty of the Nazi regime firsthand.

* * *

**Translation**

**_Telien-rind_** the Sindarin word for "circle game"


	13. Into the Fire

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twelve**

"**Into the Fire"**

The German countryside sped past the window of the sleeping car. Up ahead lay the industrial fog of wartime Germany. The sky was black with the new moon, and ominous clouds that carried the threat of snow veiled the stars. The clouds moved swiftly in the sky, allowing tiny glimmers of stars to shine on the land below for a few precious seconds. Amid the darkness of the sky, seven stars remained continually uncovered; the Sickle of the Valar.

A shudder ran through Elaneth. It seemed to her that the Sickle had moved closer to Earth, for it was no longer distant and dim. It burned with fiery intensity, as if Elbereth's own eyes glared at Berlin.

Elaneth turned back to the occupants of the sleeping car. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas slept lightly, always remaining alert for danger. She was surprised to see Haldir awake. He looked at her curiously through the darkness of the car, as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

"Eärendil is sailing through the sky," he said softly, speaking quietly so the others would not wake.

Elaneth turned again to the window. She had not noticed the mariner moving across the sky. Her brow furrowed. The star called Eärendil moved across the sky and came to rest at the edge of the Sickle. An image then appeared in the sky. Not of a shining star, but of an Elf, tall and proud standing aboard a gray ship with a sword pointed at the Sickle. Flying beside him was a majestic white bird.

_"The Valar are with you."_

Elaneth started awake. She turned immediately to the window, searching the sky. It was no longer night, however. The sun peaked over the crests of the mountains to the east. A small, bright dot sat on the horizon: Eärendil.

"What is it, Elaneth?" Haldir asked.

He referred to her manner of awakening, but Elaneth was no longer concerned with that. She looked to the north, almost expecting to see the Sickle still shining brightly over Berlin.

"We will be in Berlin within the hour," she said.

Haldir looked at her curiously. She had bolted awake and practically flung herself at the window. Her eyes searched the sky, as if seeking to confirm a miracle had occurred. Her voice barely shook when she mentioned the capital of Germany.

"We should wake the others."

Haldir nodded. "Do not fear, Elaneth, we will succeed."

The march warden roused his friends, leaving Elaneth to prepare their things. She glanced out of the window once more. The sun was above the mountain tops now, and Eärendil was hidden by its light.

Elaneth studied the Elves. They looked modern with their shorter hair, but she saw the differences between them and herself clearly. They lived in the Blessed Realm, and the light of that land touched their faces and eyes. They would never blend in with humans.

An old memory returned to Elaneth. It appeared to the Elves that a shadow passed over her face, and like on the train ride from Boston to Washington, D.C. they glimpsed a young, frightened elleth drowning in the sea of her own memories. A horror unspeakable appeared in her mind. Flames lapped mercilessly and a dark cloud of putrid sulfur shrouded her vision. She heard their screams echoing through her mind. She saw them all.

"Elaneth?" Legolas asked, leaning forward.

The elleth shook her head. She willed away the memory, but it haunted her as surely as darkness follows sunset. She prayed to Ilúvatar to spare these Elves who shone with an inner light. So few others like them had been saved.

"Here."

She held out the red swastika armbands. Elladan, Legolas, and Haldir each accepted one. She no longer sounded frightened. Her tone was now stern and determined.

"Keep these hidden until we are off the train. Tie them to your arms while we are on the platform. Walk straight through the station, and do not turn to your right or your left. You must appear to know the layout well. Once you are outside, remove the armbands quickly. Wait for Elrohir and I around the corner."

They nodded solemnly.

"What should I do?" Elrohir asked.

"Speak no German. Repeat all the Italian phrases I taught you if you must, but if you speak any German, you will be required to say more than you know. The customs officers will think nothing of an Italian man who cannot speak German. They believe all Italians are stupid and inferior. I will handle the rest."

"But the passports say we are Swiss," Elrohir argued.

"There is an Italian portion of Switzerland. That says you were born in Lugano."

Elrohir did not know where that was, but he believed Elaneth. She had arranged for the passports to be made in London, therefore she must have decided the information she wanted to be on them. Elaneth glanced down at her own passport. She wondered if anyone in Germany knew who she was. She hoped not. In Washington, D.C. and Oregon everyone knew she was Thranduil's political advisor. The upper ranks of the Nazi government certainly knew her face. The woman who decided the platform of the Senate Majority Leader would be a valuable hostage.

The train arrived in Berlin on schedule: April 13, 1942 at ten o'clock in the morning. The city was very much like Boston: industrial and unfriendly, Berlin was the heart of the German war machine. A malicious spirit haunted the city, and the Elves felt it acutely. Something evil lurked in the streets of Berlin and that presence put them on guard. The ellyn adopted Elaneth's fear of being discovered; whatever the malevolence in the city was, it seemed directed towards them. It felt almost as if this evil spirit searched for a sign that they were not human.

Elaneth and Elrohir departed the train first. They appeared like every other couple on the platform, civilians who were in a hurry to get through customs. As they stood in the line designated for foreigners, Elladan, Haldir, and Legolas passed them by.

They looked very German, as Elaneth had hoped they would. Legolas and Haldir were the image of S.S. men in their long black trench coats and fedoras. Elladan looked as German as the average German with his newly dyed hair and gray eyes. The armbands tied around their arms completed the façade. The elleth realized for the first time that swords were hidden beneath their coats.

Elladan, Haldir, and Legolas strode through the train station, mimicking the movements of the German men. Their faces were grave, and their gaits rigid. It was hard for an Elf to appear stiff, but anything was possible in the face of danger.

The glass carousel doors of the exit appeared shortly after the Elves passed Elaneth and Elrohir. Across from the train station sat a flourishing park surrounded by industrial buildings. It was an odd sight, but the blooming flowers and budding leaves gave the Elves a sliver of hope.

However, a Nazi solider with a machine gun braced against his shoulder stood between each of the three doors. As they noticed the Elves approaching, they stood up straighter and lifted their heads proudly. Elaneth had not explained to the Elves that Aryan S.S. men were greatly respected by other soldiers because they were Hitler's private guards.

In unison, the guards held their arms out straight and clicked their heels together. Such a gesture was not foreign to the Elves. Elaneth had demonstrated it to them, though she had cursed the Germans for fifteen minutes afterwards. She said it was a Roman salute, stolen by Hitler who falsely believed that he was the heir to the Roman Empire. The Third Reich referred to a third era of German supremacy. The first being Rome, and the second being the Holy Roman Empire. The Elves saluted in return and passed without incident.

Meanwhile, Elaneth felt her lungs constrict as she approached the customs agent. She expected a middle-aged German woman to check their passports. Instead, she found herself looking at a young German soldier in full uniform. Elrohir nudged her along in encouragement.

"Guten tag," she said, adding a thick Italian accent.

She prayed it covered the shakiness to her voice. When she felt Elrohir stiffen, she knew she had not succeeded. The man said nothing to her, however. He openly sneered at her.

"What business do you have in Germany?" he asked, harshly.

"My husband is a regent-"

"Then let him speak!"

Elaneth clenched her jaw. The man laughed.

"Cowardly Italian! Won't even defend his woman!"

"He does not speak German," the elleth replied.

Her statement doused the man's humor, and put him into a fouler mood than before. He stamped their passports quickly and threw them at Elaneth. She scrambled to catch them in midair.

"Get out of Germany as soon as possible, Italians. You've cost us more than you're worth in this war."

Elaneth hurried along, pulling Elrohir with her. If this man were anyone but a Nazi, she would have informed him that their passports said they were Swiss.

"What did that man say?" Elrohir questioned.

The elleth shook her head. "It is of no import. We have passed the hardest barrier. Let's go find the others."

The three companions were standing on the corner, waiting for Elrohir and Elaneth. They each held a newspaper, seemingly uninterested in anything around them.

"Finally," Legolas sighed. "We were beginning to worry."

Elaneth led them away from the train station. They joined a crowd of pedestrians moving slowly down the street. On nearly every corner, one or two Gestapo patrolled the road, but they paid little mind to pedestrians. Mainly they watched for the people they were assigned to follow. Their presence kept the order and cast a dark shadow upon the Elves' minds.

"All went well," she reported. "The man was so disgusted by the fact that we were Italians that he noticed nothing else about us."

"The guards at the door seemed happy to see us," Haldir said.

Elaneth nodded. "I imagine they would be."

"Where are we going?" Elladan asked, glancing around.

"To a hotel," the elleth answered. "Where we once again transform into Swiss bankers."

"Have all Elves mastered the art of transformation?" Legolas asked.

She shook her head. "None so well as Thranduil and I."

The Elf furrowed his brow. "Why do you not call him grandfather?"

The sons of Elrond started at Legolas's question. They had guessed that she was of both Sindarin and Silvan descent. Therefore, she was most likely some royal among the wood-elves, being descended from the refugees of Doriath, but they had not imagined Thranduil would allow his own granddaughter such a free hand in politics.

"I do not seek to announce my title." Her humor faded away, and she sighed deeply. "I do not wish to explain the story of how Thranduil and I came to be equals among the remaining wood-elves."

The ellyn were caught off guard once again. To say that she was equal with the King of the wood-elves was a strong statement.

"You are equal to a King?" Elladan asked, incredulously.

"As I said, I do not wish to explain that story."

"It seems crucial that you do," Legolas insisted. "If we are in the midst of a pseudo Queen-"

"You're not," Elaneth answered shortly.

"Then how are you equal to a King?" Elrohir asked.

Elaneth sighed deeply, now frustrated that she had said so much. "It is sufficient to say when the wood-elves were scattered, I led them to their King."

Her words did not entirely soothe the Elves' curiosity, but it was clear that she would say no more. Her statement had several implied meanings, and none of them fit her personality. There were many questions they wished to ask, especially Legolas. He had never known his father to share power or status, even with his sons. Elaneth's vague words shed some light on her current relationship with Thranduil, however, for the King made his advisors earn their places.

Elaneth led them to a hotel that was very much like the one in Switzerland. She followed the same procedure, acting as the Elves' personal assistant. Again, she requested five rooms and four of them were left vacant.

"Do not unpack," Elladan said, nodding to the suitcases. "I do not wish to remain here long."

"What is our plan?" Haldir asked. "Find out for sure if Hitler captured the Maiar, then try to return to Valinor?"

Elladan looked at Elaneth, hoping the elleth would have some insight into the matter. Her attention was focused on the radio. The harsh German voice crackled through the speakers. Elaneth turned the dial to the "off" position a moment later and turned to her companions.

"We are in luck. Tomorrow at two in the afternoon, Hitler is giving a speech to the German people. Apparently, he wants to boost morale."

"What? Why would he need to do that?" Elladan asked, intrigued.

"In the last war, the outcome was decided when the Americans arrived with reinforcements. The Americans have just arrived in France. As we speak, Germans are stuck in the Soviet Union, unable to retreat or move forward because the winters are long and harsh. Italy has always been weak, but it is at the point of breaking now," Elaneth explained. "I should have explained that to you earlier, I suppose."

"But Ulmo said men cannot defeat this evil," Elrohir said.

"Hitler employs men to fight his war, not magic. Perhaps he is untouchable, but the German army certainly can be defeated," the elleth answered.

Elladan considered her suggestion for a moment. "We will have to wait until tomorrow to decide our course of action. Our orders from the Valar are to be followed, however. We will discover who Hitler is and return immediately to Valinor."

"If we can," Elrohir added.

Elaneth started at Elladan's words. "You will begin your return journey tomorrow?"

The elder twin nodded. "Yes, we must."

The elleth opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again. She turned her eyes away from the Elves, towards the radio. She did not care to look at the box, but neither did she want to look at her new friends. She stood a moment later, and moved from the room out onto the balcony.

A cool breeze carried a hint of fragrant springtime flowers, but the snow was not yet fully melted. The metaphor between herself and the transition from winter to spring could not be ignored by Elaneth. She turned her eyes to Haldir as he joined her on the balcony, but said nothing.

"We thought you knew."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, I did. I do not know why I … I did not anticipate becoming friends with you all. Nor did I expect to accompany you on this mission as circumstance forced me to do. I regret that our time together was so short. That is all."

"We must obey the Valar." His voice was gentle for he knew his words would sting.

Elaneth nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears, and her lower lip quivered so slightly, he almost did not notice.

"I will miss you. I have said so many farewells in my time." She paused, as if debating if she should continue. "Not all of them were heard. In fact, none of them were. I have known only unpleasant endings."

Haldir stepped closer to her. He was not accustomed to giving ellyth comfort as they cried. Many times he had pretended to not notice such things. He could not bring himself ignore Elaneth, however. He placed his hand on her lower back, giving her what little comfort he could.

Elaneth was surprised that Haldir would try to comfort her. He did not seem like the kind of Elf to lend a shoulder to a crying elleth. She remembered the few times she had seen the softer side of the march warden, and quickly rejected her prior thought. She was far more surprised to realize that she had not noticed how cold it was outside until she felt the warmth of Haldir's hand.

"We need not say farewell."

Elaneth looked up into his eyes. The usual severity etched into his features had left his face completely. He looked nothing like a march warden to her. In fact, he looked rather like a healer; compassionate and gentle.

"The grace of the Valar extends to every Elf."

The elleth nodded. "Yes, I know. I have many reasons to long for the Blessed Realm, yet I don't think I could leave this world so easily."

"Because you are Silvan? You may trust my word that there are plenty of trees in Valinor. Think on it. We have a hard task ahead of us and a long journey to a Havens before we depart."

Elaneth nodded, but said nothing in response.

"You should come inside. It is far too cold for April."

* * *

A proverbial sea of people waited expectantly for the Fuehrer to address his people. Residents of Berlin filled every inch within five blocks of the site where, in fifteen minutes, Adolph Hitler was to speak. Crammed in with those thousands of people were five Elves.

A parade weaved through the streets. Regiment after regiment of S.S. troops passed by in strict formation. As they walked, civilians sang exuberant German war songs, showers of flowers fell by the soldiers' feet, and children called out their praises to the courageous soldiers willing to die to defend the Fatherland.

The scene reminded the Elves of another event in the distant past. This was a twisted version of Aragorn Elessar's coronation. The enthusiasm and pride reached the same ecstatic level, but this was no celebration for a King, this was jubilation for a murderer.

As Adolph Hitler stepped onto the podium, a wave of cheers passed through the crowd. Those citizens happy to see their leader and those terrified of retribution for a less-than-joyous response were indistinguishable. There were few who did not respond to the man's appearance in one way or another. Even the Elves found themselves pushed to the brink of their known emotions.

The five Elves stood frozen, their eyes fixed on the man called Adolph Hitler. They neither spoke nor moved while the crowd declared their glee. What each Elf thought in those moments remains unknown, for even they could not recall all the thoughts that entered their minds. They knew only one thing for certain.

Elaneth had said there was no clear cut evil this new world, but she stood corrected in that moment. For it was an irrevocable truth that the leader of Nazi Germany was purely evil.

Adolph Hitler was a Maia.


	14. Mysterious Letters

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"**Mysterious Letters"**

The Elves sat around the hotel room in silence. In the past six weeks, they had journeyed halfway around the world to find the source of the evil plaguing Arda. The conclusion of this journey was astonishing. It was not unheard of for Maiar to turn to the path of darkness. Only a few had, and most had recanted of their wayward deeds and returned to the service of the Valar.

Finally, Elaneth broke the silence with the question that had lingered in her mind since the moment Adolph Hitler had stepped onto the platform to address the German people.

"Is he the Dark Lord?"

"No," Legolas answered, flatly.

"Well, that's good."

"How is that good?" Elladan questioned.

Elaneth was at a loss for an answer. She had assumed that Sauron was a more formidable foe than any other Maia.

"We know nothing about this Maia. His name, his motivations, and his weaknesses are unknown to us. At least if he were the Dark Lord reborn we would know how to defeat him. As it is, our task is unfinished."

Elladan looked to Elaneth, as if he expected her to offer some advice. She had no information to give him, however. Neither she nor Thranduil had suspected that Hitler was anything other than an evil man.

"Then let us prepare to go seek him out and discover his name," Elrohir stated, standing up.

"What!" Elaneth cried. "You can't do that! It's suicide to show yourselves!"

"Ourselves," Elrohir corrected.

The elleth stood up and looked the Elf in the eyes.

"I have not survived all the perils and woes throughout my life only to actively seek death. If you do this, you do it without me."

"The only way to learn his identity is to speak with him," Haldir insisted.

"I will die needlessly for no one!" Elaneth yelled, spinning around to face Haldir. "Not even the Valar."

The march warden was taken aback. Her words were sacrilege. No one dared to say that, even if they were cowardly enough to think it. Legolas tentatively moved closer to Elaneth.

"Then what is your suggestion, Elaneth?"

The elleth eased onto the sofa beside Legolas. She smoothed out the front of her dress and crossed her legs.

"The safest way-"

"It is always about the safest way!" Haldir lashed out. "What about the bravest? The noblest? Do you truly care so much about your own life-"

"We do not have time for this," Elladan interjected.

Elaneth ignored him. "Do you know how many Elves remained in Middle-earth after the last ship sailed?" The march warden shook his head. "One thousand. Do you know how many Elves remain today?" Again, Haldir admitted that he did not. "Sixty-three."

The Elves quieted as the weight of the numbers settled in.

"I have known many Elves like you, Haldir. They are all with Mandos now. Courage is not charging the enemy lines looking for death. Courage is explaining to all the elflings why their fathers have not returned."

The room remained silent for a long minute. There was no response from Haldir, and Elaneth did not care to say anymore. There were plenty of words she wished to scream at the march warden, but she held her tongue. Finally, the elleth raised her eyes to Elladan.

"The Nazi party keeps records of their activities. At their headquarters, they will have documented something that can help us, whether it's Hitler's true name or the location of the abducted Maiar. Our mission will take longer, but we all may survive it."

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, the Elves prepared to leave. Elaneth dressed as a warrior once again. A quiver was strapped to her back, and a short sword hung at her hip. The ellyn watched her enter the room, amazed at her transformation. She no longer appeared to be a modern woman or a gentle elleth terrified of the Nazis. She was a warrior on a deadly mission.

"The Reich Chancellery is not too far from here," she said, pulling a cloak over her shoulders. "We're going to the Fuehrer's Bunker."

"Will we find what we need there?" Elrohir questioned.

"It is the place where Hitler maintains his office. If there is anything to find, it will be found there."

The Elves departed from the hotel shortly after sunset. Few people were out after dark, but the Gestapo and S.S. still patrolled the streets. The night was cold, and a harsh wind whipped through Berlin.

This mission felt like old times in Middle-earth to the ellyn, except for the elleth leading them from shadow to shadow. She seemed to know the city as well as Washington, D.C. That made the Elves curious, for Elaneth had made no mention of ever visiting Berlin in the past. In fact, she had hinted that she avoided Germany itself as much as possible.

Elaneth stopped in front of a massive white building. It spanned an entire block in length, but was narrower in width. Four rows of windows ran across the building, each draped in the same semi-sheer cream curtains. Standing on either side of the front entrance were two S.S. guards, and a sentinel stood on the roof.

"Where is the room we seek?" Elladan asked.

The elleth shrugged. "How should I know? I've never been invited to tea with Hitler."

"Perhaps we should begin with entering the building," Elrohir suggested, leaning over his brother's shoulder.

They fell into silence, each surveying the situation. If any of the three guards sounded the alarm, they would miss their chance completely. Elrohir unfolded a parchment he had tucked into his pocket.

"Sleeping spell or memory spell?" he asked.

The ellyn seemed to genuinely contemplate this question, but Elaneth's jaw slacked. She snatched the paper and read it quickly.

"Incantations? Sleep, memory, smoke, fire! Where was this when S.S. were chasing us on the cruise ship? When we had to go through customs? When I almost got a bullet in my head?"

Elrohir scowled at her. "Mithrandir said it must be used only at greatest need."

Elaneth continued to stare at him in disbelief. "A gun pointed at my head is not a time of greatest need?"

The younger twin grabbed the paper back. "The sleeping spell will raise the least suspicion."

Elrohir chanted the spell as Gandalf had wrote it. The guards remained on alert. He repeated the spell, but without results. He frowned deeply.

"Try another one," Haldir suggested. "Perhaps the fire spell? Mithrandir is well known for such magic."

"Good idea," Elaneth sneered. "Let's set the guards on fire. That won't raise suspicion."

"I did not mean the guards," Haldir hissed.

"You had better do something quickly," Legolas said.

The Elves looked up sharply to see the S.S. man on the roof looking intently in their direction. Haldir cursed under his breath. Clouds had cleared from the face of the moon, shining a dim beam of light on the Elves. With their elven cloaks, they were nearly invisible from enemy eyes, but their shadows were not.

"Don't let him yell," Elaneth ordered.

Elrohir looked to the parchment again, this time chanting the words to the spell that would erase his memory. It was a long shot. As soon as the man forgot about the shadows, he would see them again. It was the first spell Elrohir saw on the parchment, however. The sentinel walked to the edge of the roof and leaned over, preparing to tell his compatriots by the door to look for the shadows. The twang of a bowstring echoed through the empty street.

The words of the spell died on Elrohir's lips as his target fell from the rooftop. The man did not cry out for he was already dead. His limp body collided hard with the pavement face first, and the arrow embedded in his chest ripped through his back. His fellow soldiers did not react, however, for they too were already dead.

The Elves turned around slowly. Elaneth stood behind them, her longbow still clasped in her hand.

"Quickly," she ordered, already moving across the street. "They will be found soon."

She considered retrieving her arrows, but decided against it. Her stomach was not strong enough to clean off the blood and muscle tissue. She slipped into the building, and glanced both ways down the corridor.

The building was lavishly decorated with only the finest items. Elaneth could not suppress her scoff. Hitler lived a life of abundance while the citizens of Germany were forced to ration everything from bread to soap. If a German bought a foreign product, they were chastised for not supporting the Fatherland, but Elaneth did not see one German item in the Chancellery building.

The corridor ran straight through the building with only four hallways running perpendicular to the first. It was for the staircase that she searched. Logic told her that Hitler would demand his office be on the fourth floor.

The Elves sensed several people in the building, but not enough to raise suspicion. They were most likely guarding other entrances or members of the Nazi party working late. They hurried through the building silently and at a fast pace. Elaneth led them up the staircase to the fourth level.

"Spread out. His office will be someone nearby."

Each Elf checked two different rooms, for that was the total number on the floor. Elaneth felt a shudder pass down her spine as she realized exactly where she stood. In this building, in these offices, the policies of Nazi Germany were decided. In one of these rooms, Himmler, Goebbels, and Georning advised Hitler to exterminate the Jews and to conquer Europe with a heavy hand.

"We have located the largest room," Legolas whispered, motioning to Elaneth.

She followed him. The office he led her to had neither distinct markings on the door nor a plaque with the occupant's name. There was an assumptive air about the lack of those features, as if everyone should know who worked in this place.

It was by far the largest and most extravagant room in the building. The carpet was a rich maroon and cream with a distinctly Turkish design. Highly polished oak paneling lined the lower half of the walls and on the upper section, brass sconces with electric bulbs emitted a faint light. Original masterpiece paintings hung on every wall.

She nodded and motioned for them to begin searching for clues. On the desk, papers and memos in German were stacked neatly. They contained war plans for the continued occupation of the U.S.S.R. Elaneth shook her head. That move was the most foolish Hitler had made so far. No one but Genghis Khan had managed to occupy that land. Then again, Hitler probably thought he was better than Khan.

They searched quickly through drawers and file cabinets, being careful not to disturb anything. The Elves could not read German, however. They likely passed over a great number of documents that Allied spies would kill to see.

"Tengwar," Haldir said, holding up a sheet of paper. "This is a letter in Tengwar."

"Who is it to?" Elaneth questioned, crossing the room.

"It is to Adolph from … Benito," he said, pronouncing each syllable.

"Who is Benito?" Legolas asked, peering over Haldir's shoulder to read the letter. "Where is Midway Island?"

Elaneth took the letter, swiftly scanning the words.

"Benito Mussolini is Il Duce, the Prime Minister of fascist Italy. Midway Island is a strategic military location in the Pacific. This is an old letter about the bombing at Pearl Harbor. Did you find any others?"

Haldir nodded, holding up an entire file folder full of paper. Elaneth flipped through it briefly. All the letters came from Mussolini. It looked so odd on paper to see the subordinate Mussolini refer to Hitler as "Adolph" and "my friend." As she read more, the oddities grew. Mussolini thanked Hitler for the gifts he sent, asked how Eva liked Hitler's new home in the mountains, and invited the German to vacation in the Mediterranean after the war was over.

"This is insanity," Elaneth whispered. "There is something deeper here than an alliance."

Elaneth abruptly ended her sentence. The Elves stiffened as they felt men approaching. The men tried to move quietly, but their heavy boots and loud breathing betrayed them. They were half-way up the staircase already.

The Elves moved out of the office silently, needing no commands. Elaneth clutched the folder tightly, unwilling to leave the valuable letters. Elrohir led the group away from the staircase. They moved quickly, but with stealth. The apparent plan was to sneak around the Nazi guards while they investigated their leader's office.

They were nearly to the end of the hallway when the Nazis appeared at the top of the staircase. The Elves were hopelessly outnumbered. Each presence they had felt in the building belonged to a guard. There were a total of sixteen men spreading throughout the floor and two more standing guard by the staircase.

Elaneth motioned to a niche in the wall. It was not large enough for five Elves, but it contained the door to the roof. The Elves moved with silent footsteps, but they could not mask the squeak of the rusty door hinges. The soldiers spun, their machine guns aimed and ready to fire.

The Elves ducked into the stairwell just as the soldiers opened fire. In such a confined space, each gunshot sounded like an explosion equal to the bombs dropped on London. At least three soldiers fired at the wall, their guns rapidly spitting bullets. The shells ripped through the plaster on the walls and pinged off the steel stairs leading to the roof.

The Elves ascended the stairs two and three steps at the time. At the roof entrance, Elrohir inched the door open, and Legolas peered out the small slit. It appeared safe, and they felt no malice from any presence on the roof.

"Hide quickly," Elladan ordered.

As if on cue, the steel staircase groaned in protest with the weight of heavy men. The Germans did not attempt to mask their approach this time. They called to each other in the guttural language, unaware that one of the intruders they stalked could not only speak German, but had exceptional Elven hearing.

"They're going to shoot through the door, and then burst through two men facing each direction," Elaneth explained, repeating the German orders.

The Elves searched for some place to hide. The roof was completely flat except for two places; the stairwell exit and a small guard shack for the sentinel on the roof. Legolas, Haldir, and Elaneth stood atop the guard shack while the twins climbed inside. They did not seem pleased with Elaneth standing in the open, but she had proven her skill in archery both on the training field and battlefield. Their arrows were nocked, waiting for the Germans to emerge.

The explosion of gunfire echoed through the night. Four or five soldiers fired an entire round through the door. The sounds of men shuffling about inside the cramped area alerted the Elves to the Nazis' intentions long before the action occurred. The men kicked the door off its hinges, and slowly edged through the exit.

Even before a soldier could fully appear, Legolas released an arrow. The German fell forward with a white-fletched arrow protruding from his neck. This seemed to give the Germans a reason to hesitate, but it also betrayed the Elves' position on the roof. Soldier after soldier appeared from the doorway, his gun pointed towards the Elves, but each one fell before he could open fire.

"This is rather boring," Legolas commented, nocking another arrow.

The steel staircase screeched again, and the entrance to the roof became eerily quiet.

"They have retreated so soon?" Haldir asked, with a laugh.

Elaneth shook her head. "No. They have trapped us up here."

"Or so they think," the march warden replied, jumping off the guard shack. "Did you pay no attention to the sides of the building? There are ledges above and beneath every window."

Elaneth hurried to the side of the roof and peered over. Just as Haldir said, ledges jutted out from the face of the building every five of six feet.

"We shall have to be quick," Haldir said.

Legolas and Elaneth were the first to climb down while Haldir, Elladan, and Elrohir stood guard. They then climbed down once the other two were on the ground. It was a fairly easy climb for an Elf, given that the ledges were spaced perfectly for their height. Not thirty seconds after all five Elves stood on the ground the sounds of men running reached their ears.

"Back the way we came," Elaneth said.

They raced through the city, being careful to avoid Gestapo patrols. At this time of night the Hitler Youth would be on their way home to bed so they could wake up early for yet another day of training to become good Nazis. They were often more frightening than adult soldiers. In school, children were indoctrinated with Nazi values. They were too young to understand that there was a gray area between loyalty and betrayal.

"There!"

Legolas glanced over his shoulder. A group of seven Nazi soldiers were following them, barreling down the street at full speed. Without need for prompting, the Elves quickened their pace. Elladan led them through the streets, ducking randomly into alleys and side streets. It was nearing the curfew hour of ten o'clock. The streets were rapidly emptying, leaving the Elves wide open targets for the soldiers.

When the Elves seemed to have sufficiently outdistanced the soldiers, they returned to their hotel room. They were barely in the door when it became apparent that Elaneth did not plan to stay. She grabbed her pack from the floor and quickly slung it over her shoulders. She made for the door with no other thought to anything in the room.

"Where are we going?" Elladan asked, following her out the door.

"Anywhere that is not Berlin. Preferably Switzerland," she declared.

"How? They will follow us!" Elrohir shouted, running to join the elleth and his brother.

"I have an idea, though I do not know if it will work. Pray to Ilúvatar." She turned back to Legolas and Haldir. "Faster!"

* * *

The freight train sat on the last rail line. Between the Elves and that train were seven passenger trains and five Nazi soldiers.

People shuffling to make the last train to Zurich packed the platform. The soldiers were busy checking identities and interrogating any suspicious person. There were other soldiers, however, who were responsible for the inspection of the trains. Those individuals lurked between the trains, checking the storage compartments and even coal pits.

The Elves pulled their cloaks tight around them and jogged across the rail lines. The conductor's cabin of the freight train faced south, in the general direction of Austria. It was the only assurance Elaneth had that they were not about to board an Interment Train to Auschwitz. Two Nazi officers and the conductor stood near the caboose, speaking rapidly about the contents of the train. Elaneth assumed that a closed door meant that car had been checked and approved.

Elladan and Elrohir pulled open a door just far enough for a slender Elf to squeeze through. Haldir lifted Elaneth into the car, and then hoisted himself up. The other three then quickly made their entrance and eased the door shut.

That particular train car carried sacks of cornmeal and live chickens in wooden crates. The birds looked curiously at the Elves with their beady black eyes then went back to their business of picking at the floor of their cage. Haldir tried desperately to suppress his laugh, but several chuckles escaped him. Elaneth nodded along with him, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Well, this is the life," Elrohir smiled, leaning back on an oversized sack of meal. "Have a seat, friends. It's quite comfortable for a sack of food."

"How long shall we enjoy such comforts, Lady Elaneth?" Elladan asked, sitting next to his brother.

"I'm not sure. I seem to have lost the train schedule."

As the train pulled out of the station, the Elves unloaded their packs and laid out their bedrolls. The freight train moved painfully slowly, yet the Elves did not think on it much. They were on their way out of Germany and that was all they cared about.


	15. Star Gift

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"**Star-Gift"**

"Why did you kill those men?"

Elaneth looked up to see Haldir watching her intently. Legolas and the twins lay sleeping a few feet away. The rattling of the freight train and clucking of the chickens didn't hinder their sleep, something which amazed Elaneth. She laid aside the Hitler-Mussolini letters and focused her attention on the march warden.

"Isn't it funny that our conversations always seem to occur while those three sleep?" she asked.

"I find no humor in that."

"I guess that phrase doesn't translate well."

For a moment their voices faded away, leaving only the sound of the rumbling train to fill the night. Elaneth made no attempt to answer Haldir's initial question, and he was both relieved and bothered that she avoided that subject.

Over the past few days the mystery that surrounded Elaneth had lifted in some respects, but it had been quickly replaced with a far more enticing ambiguity. In one breath, she could be gentle and idealistic, and in the next both grave and sinister. He wondered which of the two Elaneth's true personality was.

"I had to."

Elaneth's hoarse whisper broke the gentleness of the night. Her voice was deep and toneless, yet her eyes swelled with guilt, regret, and pride. She did not look to Haldir for either approval or damnation. She had done what she felt was right at the time. Whether it was or not did not matter. Her actions were final, and the consequences set in motion.

The pragmatism etched into her features shocked the march warden. She looked at him with the eyes of a warrior. He no longer doubted that she had fought in battles and had led her people to their King. No simple, innocent elleth could look so shameful and yet so proud in one single moment. She had fulfilled her duty, rationalized her guilt and moved on with her life.

"Aye," Haldir nodded.

They said nothing more to one another for the remainder of the night. Haldir returned to repairing the fletching of the arrow in his hand, and Elaneth continued to read the letters stolen from Hitler's office. The night passed quickly with an easy, understanding silence between them.

* * *

Elladan pulled back the boxcar door a crack and peered through the slit. The landscape around them had changed very little. A rocky plain stretched for several leagues, gradually becoming hillier further from the rail line. In the distance loomed an ominous mountain range.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Probably somewhere in Austria," Elaneth answered. "It was once called Dunland."

The Elves perked up at her statement. They had poured over their map, attempting to gage distances. Their goal was to locate the lands once called Imladris, Greenwood, and Lothlórien. Elaneth could have easily drawn the locations on the map, but they seemed to enjoy arguing about the topic.

"What is there here for us to discover?" Legolas questioned, glancing towards the map.

"Nothing," the elleth chuckled. "We only needed to leave Germany. We are still not safe. No place in Europe is truly safe."

She moved to the Elves. On the map, she indicated each region as she spoke.

"The only neutral states in the war are Spain, Portugal, Turkey, Switzerland, Sweden, and Ireland. We were attacked in Ireland, so neutrality does not guarantee safety. All of these lands, from France to the city of Moscow and from Italy to Finland are enemy territory. We need to be in Rome in order to find Mussolini. As you can see, there is no safe route there."

"What do you suggest then?" Elladan asked.

The elleth shrugged. "I am at a loss for options. Any territory occupied by Germany is just as dangerous as being in Germany. Our names and pictures will spread quickly through the German military bases. My only idea is to travel through countries that are allied with, or dependent upon, Germany. They are more likely to use their own military in addition to S.S. troops than an Occupied Territory. That being said, you should know that Austria is a part of the German Reich."

"Then we should continue on quickly and stay off the roads," Elladan said, his Ranger instinct kicking in. "In this modern day, does anyone travel across country on foot?"

Elaneth shook her head. "Not unless they are outlaws or gypsies."

"We are outlaws," Haldir laughed. "Elladan's plan fits us perfectly."

"Very well," Legolas agreed. "When should we depart the train?"

"This train is going to Vienna, I think," Elaneth answered. "We should make our escape well before we reach the city. From there, it is a day's travel by car to the Czechoslovakian border and another two days ride to Budapest, in Hungary. They are both allied with Germany, but Hungary is not fully occupied."

"Budapest is a good place for us to go?" Elrohir asked.

Elaneth was silent for a moment. Then she nodded pensively.

"There is a place near Budapest where we may rest without fear for a few days."

The train rattled slowly onwards for two more days. It passed cities and tiny villages by without stopping. After the second full day of riding in the freight car, Elaneth was sure that they were headed for Vienna. Although the journey was slow, the Elves were the safest they had been since leaving the United States.

The two day ride was spent playing numerous games of Rind, learning more German, and studying the map. Elaneth added some of her own touches to Gandalf's map. She marked cities, rivers, and mountain ranges as she remembered them. The map would not be much use in the wilds of Eastern Europe, but Elrohir was insistent that Gandalf would not have given them a useless tool.

Finally, the crawling train neared the city of Vienna. The Danube came up sharply on the left, and the rail line followed it into the city, deviating only to come into the depot. The hilly land that surrounded Vienna slowly rose higher and higher until the plains merged with the mountains. The air was warm, but like most industrial cities, contained a metallic tang.

"This is where we make our exit," Elaneth said, turning to the Elves. "I do not know what paths to take to arrive in Czechoslovakia."

"It is due east from here. We will have no problems finding it," Haldir assured her.

"Then we should depart," Legolas said. "Vienna is probably an hour away. That should be far enough south. Where can we expect to meet this river again?"

"East of Vienna," Elaneth answered. "If we follow the Danube from there, it will lead us directly into Budapest, but that would not be wise. Rail lines and well-traveled roads lie on either side of the river."

After Elrohir marked the flow of the river on the map, he tucked it away in his pack. The Elves fastened their cloaks and shouldered their packs. They were embarking upon a trip like the many others they had taken. Some of them had even traveled together through Dunland into the kingdom of Rohan.

Elaneth did not look daunted by the prospect of a long journey on foot. She had made many similar trips before. Though she was used to traveling on paved Roman roads, automobiles were a recent addition to her life. For most of her life she had traveled on horseback and foot. She was one of thousands of Romans who had made the seven year journey across the Roman Empire.

One by one, the Elves jumped from the creeping boxcar onto the soft Austrian soil. It was little more than a four foot step, considering the slow speed of the train. They turned to the east and began their long trek into Czechoslovakia.

The terrain inclined gradually, leading to a stunted mountainous zone in the distance. Further to the south, those mountains turned into the enormous Alps on the Swiss-Italian border. The Elves traveled through the largest valley in Austria, and Elaneth planned to keep them on that path. She thought that although the land from Vienna to Bratislava, the first Czechoslovakian town they would come to, would be hilly and rocky, it would, for the most part, be easily navigable.

"It feels like we're back in Middle-earth," Legolas said, looking around in wonder.

The uninhabited region of Europe seemed nearly unchanged. He did not feel exactly as though he was back in Rohan, but the combination of an unmarred landscape and the presence of companions put him in a nostalgic mood.

"Aye," Haldir agreed. "I traveled many times into Dunland with my fellow march wardens."

"It feels quite like traveling through Rome as well," Elaneth added.

"You traveled abroad in the renewed lands of Gondor? That would explain your impeccable sense of direction."

Elaneth smiled at Elrohir, and nodded. "I traveled throughout the great lands of my birth; from Alexandria to Ostia, and from Constantinople to Hadrian's Wall."

"Where was your home?" Legolas asked.

"I have known many homes. I was born in the Eternal City. That is the city of Rome. I always considered Alexandria my true home, but we never made our permanent residence there."

"Were there vast libraries in Alexandria?" Elrohir teased.

Elaneth nodded with a sheepish smile.

"We moved to Britannia in the time of Hadrian. Just after the Wall was completed in 122, he granted us land in Britannia. Roman rule did not last long there, however. By that time, we were few in number and did not wish to fight another war. We returned to Rome to remain under the protection of the Caesar. Caesar Theodosius gave us land in Pannoniae, and that is where we remained for many long years. Our land was called Eryn Ellvalan, and that name seemed to define our forest well for a time. After we moved to Finland with the Edain of Aragorn, we did not move again until three hundred years ago."

"Where was Eryn Ellvalan?" Elladan asked.

"It is very near," Elaneth replied.

Her voice had a tone of finality to it. She knew the exact location, and could lead them there if she wished to, but she did not. She intended to avoid that site at all costs.

They continued walking east until the sun dipped low on the horizon. The land was treeless with only tuffs of grass growing between the boulders embedded into the hilly land. They stayed out of sight in the dells, hidden between the larger hills with their Elven-cloaks blending into the landscape.

Haldir built a fire with dried thorns and grass. It was not a large fire as the kindling was poor, but it would help the look-out peer through the blackness of the night. The waxing moon was still only a small sliver in the sky, and the stars were blacked out by clouds. Elladan and Elrohir offered to hunt some of the rabbits scurrying about in the boulders, but the fire was not hot enough to cook meat. The Elves stretched out on the uneven ground and chewed on lembas.

"What have you learned from the letters?" Elladan asked.

Elaneth looked through the firelight to the twins. She seemed older and more worn in the orange light, yet her face was still smooth and fair.

"More of the same. They correspond as if they are close friends. There is also political advice in the letters, but that does not surprise me. Mussolini does as Hitler says because Hitler is the more powerful of the two."

"All the letters are in Tengwar?" Legolas asked.

She nodded. "The letters contain no names other than Adolph and Benito. They do not even mention surnames. I can only assume that Mussolini is also a Maia."

"Two Maiar conspiring against the world of Men," Elladan said, shaking his head. "I hope they are not Aulë's servants. He has suffered enough guilt over the deeds of Sauron and Saruman."

"What about the other Axis leaders?" Elrohir asked. "Do you suspect they are Maiar?"

Elaneth shook her head. "I don't know. I have never met Emperor Showa or Generals Tojo and Yamamoto. I hope no one in the Japanese government is a Maia; it is a long journey to Japan and much more dangerous than traveling through Europe."

The Elves could not image a more dangerous journey. Elaneth did not wish to explain that genocide, bombings, and guerilla warfare were rampant across the entire globe.

"There is only one thing that bothers me," Elaneth continued. "The Italian assassin in Ireland. I cannot understand for the life of me why Mussolini sent a man to follow us. Hitler sent at least fourteen S.S. soldiers after us, if not more. Yet Mussolini sent only one man. Why would he even bother?"

The Elves had no answer for her question. She did not expect them to, but it was a question that had tugged at her mind for a week. She wracked her brain to find every scenario possible, but she always came to the same conclusion. She was overlooking a key piece in the puzzle.

"Is your name Latin?"

Elaneth started at the sound of Haldir's voice. She hadn't noticed the hours slip by as she stared into the fire pit. The twins and Legolas had laid down to rest, but Haldir had taken the first watch of the night.

"No, it is Sindarin," she replied, confusion knitting her brow.

"Is it derived from your Latin name, I mean? Elaneth is not a name a Silvan Elf would give their child."

"It is not my birth name, but neither is it Latin-derived. It is a name given to me by a mortal friend long dead. He did not know I was Elven, only that I was different than any woman he had ever known. He was a superstitious man. He said to me, 'Your face shines like a star. Therefore, you must be the daughter of a god.' He called me Heofonlicscíne. That is heaven-gift in his tongue. I changed my name to Elaneth after his passing."

"What is your father-name?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth's jaw visibly tightened. She was silent for a very long time. She stared into the darkness, towards the southeastern mountain range. The same haunted look that Haldir had noticed many times entered her eyes. She turned her attention from the horizon to the dirt beneath her feet.

"That is of no importance." She stood from her place on the ground. "Good night, Haldir. You can tell whoever has the next watch to wake me. I do not need as much sleep as you all seem to think."

When Elaneth woke, it was to the sun rising over the mountains. She noted with irritation that she had not been woken to take a watch. Elladan sat on watch, his pack sitting at his feet. He bid the elleth a good morning and handed her a piece of lembas.

"Thank you, Elladan. Tomorrow evening, I will take first watch."

"My Lady? You need not do any such thing."

"Yes, I do, and I will."

Elaneth's movements had roused the three sleeping Elves just in time to hear her stern command.

They departed soon after waking, and planned to travel the whole day. Elves needed little sleep, and they planned to make good use of that ability. Elaneth warned them that the second half of the journey would be through mountain passes. It was decided that they should move as swiftly as possible on the first portion of their journey to make up for the slower latter part.

The mountains were steeper than they had appeared from a great distance, but they were by no means an unbeatable challenge. As the Elves approached the mountain range they plotted their course of travel. One path wound through the mountains by a series of short, steep hikes that led to flat shelves in the mountains. There appeared to be terraces staggered up the entire cliff face and deep into the mountain gorge. The second path was a hiking path winding across the mountain face that led up and over the mountain.

"The first course will be by far the easier," Legolas noted, casting his vote.

"But the second will be faster," Elaneth argued. "It is time we wish to save, not our legs."

"How can traveling over a mountain be quicker than passing through a gorge?" Elladan asked, with arched eyebrows.

"I have taken this path before. The valley system is more complicated than it looks. We will save ourselves many hours by climbing," said Elaneth.

She was outnumbered, however, for all four ellyn voted to travel through the system of valleys. As the ellyn filed into the gorge, Elaneth remained still, her neck craned back to look at the mountain crest. Silent tears trickled down her pale cheeks in elaborate patterns, coating her face in a fine sheen of wetness. She took a deep breath, and lowered her eyes to the mountain pass. Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir were already far into the pass, but Haldir waited at the entrance.

Perplexity marred the fine features of his face. He watched the elleth in silent concern until she lowered her eyes to him. In her eyes, clear and blue as rainwater, Haldir saw anguish and fear mixed together in a torturous stream of memory.

"Elaneth …" he began.

The elleth quickly shook her head. "They will not listen, even if you speak for me. As brave and loyal as you are, and as knowledgeable I am, we both know that they are Princes of great Elves, and in the end, we both must submit to their will. Even I, a Princess, am outranked by Legolas. It is inevitable that I face my past, but it is unfortunate that it is in the very same place my past diverged from happiness into despair."

Haldir's brow creased, and reached out touch Elaneth. "Inevitable is not a word I thought would slip so easily from your lips."

"There is much you do not know about me."

Elaneth entered the gorge, and Haldir followed behind her. She walked with trepidation and glanced around at the high walls of the mountain pass and at the rocky path beneath her feet. She counted the steps, waiting for number four hundred and twenty-four.

"421 … 422 … 423 …"

As she reached the dreaded number, the Elves emerged onto the first terrace in the mountain.

Elaneth choked back a sob.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is for all you history buffs. Some of you may feel I have stretched the borders of Rome slightly. Parts of Austria, Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary were most certainly conquered by Rome. However, there is some discrepancy about how much. I am working under the assumption that Rome occupied ALL of these territories, but did not incorporate it into the Empire. I am assuming this because I feel it is very important to my story. Read and see. Hopefully, the northern border of Rome will not effect what you think of my story.

**Pannoniae: **Roman name for the territory of Eastern Europe; Austria, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, part of southern Germany

**Theodosius: **Caesar in the late-300's AD

**Eryn Ellvalan: **Sindarin, the Forest of Elf-Power


	16. A Place of Death

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"**A Place of Death"**

This place was dead.

It was the first thought that entered the Elves' minds. The terrace in the mountain stretched two leagues in width and a league in length, forming a rough oval shape. On the outer limits of the shelf the rock curved, forming a gigantic bowl. Many more shelves lined the cliffs, much like the lowest terrace. At the crest of the bowl, the mountain came together again with giant overhangs covering most of the basin floor. It looked as if dwarves had delved a giant ball into the mountain.

Unlike the valley below, the terrace was entirely without vegetation. The rock was not gray and white, but rather ashen black. The air smelled stale, as if it had not moved in millennia. Scattered across the shelf were wooden beams, blackened and rotting with age, but remarkably preserved. From underneath the black rock bits of silver gleamed in the shafts of sunlight. High on the northern cliff, Elvish runes were etched into the mountain. Centuries of weather had smoothed the once crisp letters and lichen clung to the runes, but the words remained readable. _Here in Eryn Ellvalan dwell the Laiquendi, forever tied to Arda, and their King, Thranduil Oropherion. _

The Elves spun around to face Elaneth. She would have answers for them, but was in no state to answer questions. She stood stock still, like a statue cut from stone. All color had drained from her face, and she stared at the center of the shelf. Her eyes were unseeing, yet fear and horror were reflected through the blue irises.

* * *

**410 A.D, Eryn Ellvalan **

_"Idhriniel! Idhriniel!"_

_The elleth turned in all directions. She heard her name. Many people called for her but she saw none of them. Black smoke clogged the air, and the stench of burning wood filled her nostrils. She turned around and around until she felt dizzy, searching in vain for those who called._

_"Idhriniel! Help us!"_

_"Idhriniel! Idhriniel!"_

_So many called to her. Grown Elves seven times her age called her name as if she were Ilúvatar able to answer their prayers. Elflings, barely two winters old cried for her rather than their own mothers. Smoke stung her eyes and tears clogged her throat. She could not see, but she heard everything._

_Wood groaned under the lapping flames, and eventually succumbed to the fiery abuse. Whole buildings collapsed, spreading the fire further. The tormented screams of those who could not find their way out of the homes and shops filled the air and echoed off the cliffs. The leaves on the beautiful mallyrn trees sizzled in the heat, their beautiful green leaves dying in the harsh flames. _

_"Idhriniel! Idhriniel!"_

_She groped blindly, searching for anything that would indicate her surroundings. She had run from the higher terraces blindly when she heard the screams of the villagers and was not accustomed to the lower levels of the city. For so long, she had stayed at the top of the cliff, hidden safely away in the palace. _

_"Idhriniel!"_

_Their screams were becoming more panicked and yet it was taking her longer to reach them. The further she descended into the gorge, the harder it became to move. The heat from the fire scourched her hair and bit at her face. The smoke was thicker, turning the noon sky blacker than the moonless night. _

_Horses broke from their stables. Some, wild-eyed and insane with fear, trampled their own masters. Others escaped from the ravaging fire through the narrow path out of the mountains. _

_An elleth latched onto her as she passed. The elleth was shaking with fear, and openly sobbing. The arms of her dress crumbled into ash as she moved, and the skin of her arms, charred and black, hung loosely to her muscle. She scratched at Idhriniel's face, begging for aid. Idhriniel cringed as bits of the elleth's skin rolled off her hands and stuck her face._

_"Lady Idhriniel! Help us! Help us!"_

_The elleth collapsed to the ground, crying out insane words in her pain. Idhriniel bent down to help the elleth, but she did not know what to do for her. There were others, so many others to help too. She was no healer. _

_"Idhriniel! Please, save us!"_

_Idhriniel spun around, searching for the new voice. She had not panicked on her way down the shelves, but now that she stood among the people who screamed her name, expecting her to have an answer, she felt tears prick at her eyes. Another elleth attached herself to Idhriniel's legs, crying for the Princess to find her children. _

_A new series of screams pierced the air as the fire set the grass ablaze, and spread through the shelf within moments. It was all Idhriniel could to get herself onto the next shelf. She paused, turning back to the people. She could not see them through the black smoke, but she knew that the two ellyth who begged her for help were lying on the grass, covered in the scorching flames. Their shrieks were so near to her, so loud and so tormented. _

_"Idhriniel! Idhriniel! Help us!"_

_A third wave of cries issued from the center of the lower shelf as their attackers entered. The Barbarians chanted loudly in their harsh, guttural language; Idhriniel did not understand the words, but their intent was clear. She felt their evil all around her. They entered from every avenue into the mountain gorge, blocking all escape routes. _

_The elleth turned and fled up the shelves with a small troupe of Elves behind her. She prayed that other groups of Elves were making their way up the cliffs as well for there could be no more than ten behind her. _

_Below, the bloody massacre continued. The Ostrogoths killed every last living thing they came into contact with. Ellyth and elflings alike were cut down cruelly. Even the Elven-horses were hacked into tiny pieces. Idhriniel hurried on, but she could not escape the sounds issuing from below._

_The screams never ceased. Neither did the sickly sound of cruel axes slicing through Elven-bodies or the nauseous sound of limbs of live Elves being snapped in two. There were many ellyth who proclaimed these men would pay when their husbands returned. The tears finally escaped Idhriniel's eyes as she realized that those poor ellyth were enduring the worst crime among Elven-kind. _

_She choked back her sob and looked into the heavens. The air above her was blocked by black smoke, but somewhere above her, the sun sat high in the sky._

_"Ai! Elbereth! Save us! Save us from this oppression! Though we are the Unwilling Laiquendi! Do not forsake us! Elbereth!" _

_A loud crack of thunder drowned out the screams, the crackling of the fire, and the groaning of wood. Heavy rain and hail poured from the sky, like a waterfall breaking through a dam. Idhriniel felt herself pulled underneath the overhang of the cliff. She pressed against the hot rock, which had been heated by fire, as the wrath of Ulmo and Manwë beat down upon the Ostrogoths. _

_The sky did not clear for three whole days. The rain and hail issued unceasingly from the sky, flooding the bottom of the gorge. The fire was doused and the smoke cleared, but the survivors were not joyous. _

_Their home was ruined. The forest of mallyrn, so carefully planted and tended, were now only ashes. Nothing of their city stood. Even the palace of Thranduil had burned to the ground. As the water standing in the gorge drained out, the evidence of the atrocity was left for all to see. Strewn about the shelf were corpses blackened from the fire, limbs hacked from bodies, slain ellyth with their dresses ripped open, and tiny elflings hung from the stone gates of the city. _

_The Ostrogoths had not retreated. They waited for the rain to cease and the smoke to clear, and when it did, they came again from their hiding places in the mountains. Seated on the stone shelves were perhaps two hundred Elves, though many hundreds more were dead. The wicked Barbarians gathered them up and herded them into the center of the city. They were bound hand and foot and then tied together._

_The men barked orders in their own language, but the Elves did not understand. Finally, they resorted to shoving the Elves into place. Idhriniel strained to see over the shoulder of the man who herded her into the corner of the shelf. Her naneth and little brother stood in the first group of people. She wanted to shout for them, to tell them they had survived together, and everything would be fine. She guessed she would not be able to speak with her family for quite some time. The Ostrogoths were known for taking conquered people as slaves. In their village, she could find her naneth and brother._

_"Are you Princess Idhriniel?"_

_The elleth turned sharply as she heard Latin spoken to her. The man speaking to her bent down, as if to hide himself behind her height. _

_"You must come with me now. Bring all of your people willing to leave the city."_

_The elleth furrowed her brow at the man. He was an Ostrogoth. Though she could not say that this particular man had savagely attacked them, she was hesitant to trust him. The Barbarians did not bother to learn Latin, however, and that fact intrigued her._

_"Princess, there is no time. You must hurry. If you are caught trying to escape a worse fate will await you than what you have seen here. I will lead you out of the mountains by a path my evil kinsman will not expect." _

_When she made no move to comply, he sighed deeply._

_"Princess, you do not know what is about to happen. The Ostrogoths have taken over all of Pannoniae except your small land. We will have that too, at your expense. Some of the men in my tribe believe that your people are demons lurking in the woods. Any evil that sets upon our tribe is blamed on you. Now you will pay for it, but I am giving you a chance to escape this fate. I will lead you to your warriors. They are delayed in the north with some wounded soldiers. They are your only chance."_

_Idhriniel hesitated for a moment. The ellyth grouped around her whispered softly to each other. They wanted to escape from these men. At her signal, they began to spread the word that they were going to attempt an escape. Some flatly refused, fearing the wrath of the Ostrogoths should they be caught. Others quickly agreed, daring to hope that they could escape to the north where the Edain of Aragorn had settled. _

_Soon the Elves nearest to Idhriniel began their silent passage into the mountain path that the Ostrogoth guide indicated. Idhriniel counted sixty Elves who passed through the door in the mountain before the guide motioned for her to come. _

_"I have to get my mother and brother," she said, turning towards the place where she saw them stand._

_The man grabbed for her, to turn her back to the mountain pass. It was too late. Idhriniel's eyes widened in horror. The group that had been shuffled into the center of the city was securely tied together with thick rope. The Barbarians ran around the circle with torches, lighting the Elves' clothing on fire. _

_The elleth did not want to watch, but neither could she turn away. Her mother and little brother, of only four summers, clung to each other with tears passing down their cheeks. Idhriniel stood frozen, unable to save them, but unable to leave them either. _

_The ellyth began crying out to the Valar to save them, but it was no avail. The rain of Ulmo and Manwë could not save them now. The Ostrogoths would wait it out again. Amid all the screams and shrieks filling the air and echoing off the empty cliff walls, Idhriniel heard two familiar voices; her mother's and her brother's agonized screams as they burned alive at the hands of the Ostrogoths._

_Tears slipped from her eyes. They were all ellyth and elfings. They had done nothing wrong. The ellyn were away, defending their lands from the raiding Visigoths. She did not know what to do; she was barely more than an elfling herself. Her grandfather had not even announced her as a Lady of the Court yet. _

_The Ostrogoth guide pulled her from the spot to which she was rooted. She did not fight back, but neither did she go willingly. She stumbled backwards, guided by the man's hand only. As she disappeared around the rock wall leading to an outside pass through the valley beyond, she heard her mother's final call._

_"Idhriniel, my daughter! Fulfill the name Olórin gave you!"_

_Idhriniel choked back her sob. Her mother had seen her after all. She reigned in her tears, and turned towards the Barbarian man. She was her people's last hope._

_"Show us the way to Finland."_

* * *

Elaneth bolted awake. Her chest heaved as she fought to suck air into her lungs. Her gasps were so loud that she sounded as if she had run for days without a rest. A fine sheen of sweat covered her entire body, and she trembled uncontrollably. She leaned into the warmth of a strong body next to her, resting her head against the shoulder. The strong, steady heartbeat soothed her nerves, and she wrapped her fingers in silky hair like she had always done when her grandfather had held her. A calming, secure aura surrounded her as her comforter stroked her hair and rocked her gently. Her breathing slowed to match the rise and fall of the chest she leaned against.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. For a moment, she was afraid she would see burnt bodies, but she did not. In front of her stretched a mountainous landscape. The soft light of the first quarter moon caressed the leafy trees blowing in the wind and the swift flowing river swerving through the rolling meadow. Beside the river, a chestnut horse lay sleeping, undisturbed by Elaneth's nightmare.

"Is she all right?"

Elaneth pushed herself away from her comforter, spinning around to face the speaker. Her eyes were wide with fear and wonder. He sounded so much like her grandfather. Elaneth blinked hard, and shook her head. Her breathing quickened again, as if a memory more horrible than her nightmare came to her.

"Legolas," she sighed, her eyes filling with tears.

The Elf knelt beside her and leaned in to look into her eyes. He touched her cheek softly and offered her a reassuring smile. Further away, Elladan and Elrohir stood awkwardly like uninvited guests at a party, offering her the same weak smile as Legolas. She peered over her shoulder to look at Haldir, her comforter. He did not attempt to smile at all; instead his eyes were dark and concerned.

Elaneth turned to look at the river. She knew this land well, though she wished she did not. She dared not look to the west for fear that her dark thoughts would return. Instead, she took a deep breath and surveyed her settings once more. The other Elves said nothing. They were unsure of what to say and frightened that she would enter another delirium.

"I would like to bathe in the river, if you wouldn't mind."

She motioned for them to turn around, and they all nodded their assent quickly. Elaneth stood and walked down the bank to the Danube. They were somewhere to the east of Vienna, but that made very little sense to her. Eryn Ellvalan was southwest of the city.

She stripped off her sweaty clothes and eased into the chilly river. It felt good against her hot skin. She ducked her head under the water several times, enjoying the simple pleasure of taking a bath. It had been a very long time since she had washed in a river, but she remembered the days before indoor plumbing well.

The Elves sat with their backs to the river, although Elaneth had moved far enough downstream that they could not see her, but they also did not want her to see them. They spoke in whispered Quenya, the language that Elaneth was weakest in.

"She appears to be fine," Elladan said, glancing over his shoulder. "But that means little. Our father healed those with mental illness as best he could, but such things are not easy to cure."

"She doesn't have a mental illness," Haldir stated, glaring at Elladan. "Something in the mountains caused her reaction."

"I agree," Elrohir began, "but we cannot discount the fact that she has slept for a full day and a half. That is not a normal reaction to any place. Especially a place that was once your home."

"We don't know that," Haldir insisted.

"The runes-"

"We don't know anything for sure," the march warden insisted. He turned away from Elrohir with his lips pressed tightly together. "And we will not ask her."

Legolas set his jaw. "You are not the only one who cares for her." Haldir's turned his head sharply to face Legolas. "She is my niece."

"If you think she is insane, then think that. But do not concern yourselves any longer with her well-being. I will continue to supervise her."

Haldir stood and left his three friends. Elaneth was not insane. If she were, it would have shown up long before they reached Eryn Ellvalan. She remained sane when their cruise ship sank, when an Italian tried to kill her, and when S.S. soldiers chased them through the streets of Berlin. It was that place that had caused her delirium. He now knew that Eryn Ellvalan was the reason Elaneth did not speak openly about her family, her people, or even her name.

He would not ask her any of those questions again. Nor would he let the others.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Ostrogoths: **Barbarian tribe who conquered the Roman territory of Pannoniae in the year 410 A.D.

**Idhriniel: **Sindarin for "wise-child." If you didn't catch on, that's Elaneth's birth name.


	17. Without Explanations

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Sixteen**

"**Without Explanations"**

Elaneth looked around curiously at the countryside. In the pale moonlight, she had not noticed the subtleties of the land. The Danube was unmistakable because it was the largest, swiftest river in this part of Eastern Europe. Yet the landscape was far different to that of Austria. The land was lush, with tall grass swaying in the breeze and copes of trees dotting the valley. To both the east and west large mountain ranges loomed. The range to the west was further away, and gray and ominous even the morning light. The mountains to the east, however, were more welcoming. The slopes were covered with thick evergreens, and above the tree line were snow-capped summits. They looked like the Hungarian Mátra Mountains.

She turned to glance at the Elves who were preparing to depart. The horse that had slept by the banks of the river was with them, standing obediently without bridle or bit as Legolas loaded him with their packs.

"When did we get a horse?" she asked.

Her question earned her blank stares, but their faces did not convey misunderstanding. They purposely tried to appear naïve, yet she knew they were not. Finally, Haldir stepped forward. He motioned for her to begin walking. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas hurried along the path as if they wanted to escape the conversation.

"We found him running wild yesterday. He agreed to help us on our way," the march warden answered.

Elaneth furrowed her brows. Yesterday, they were on the rocky hills south of Vienna. While she had bathed in the Danube the previous night she had noted the first-quarter moon was only a night away, and that would make the date April twenty-fifth. They had arrived in Eryn Ellvalan during the waxing gibbous moon, April twenty-third.

"How have I lost a day?" she asked, more to herself than Haldir. "We are in Hungary."

She glanced around at the landscape again. The mountains in the distance had been the final destination. They were only a day away. Her brows remained drawn together in confusion as she retraced the days. Her last memory was of that terrible day in Eryn Ellvalan. But that could not have been a memory. It was the same nightmare that had plagued her for fifteen hundred years.

"Haldir, what happened?"

The march warden sighed. He wondered how to explain to the elleth that she had been in a fitful sleep for thirty-six hours, muttering inane babble in a language none of them knew. It would not be so easy to say that he had carried her through the mountains and down the craggy hills of Czechoslovakia into the fertile valley they walked through now.

"You slept, Elaneth. It was apparent to us that you need rest, so we did not wake you."

It was stretching the truth a bit. They had tried to wake her several times, but she could not be drawn from her sleep. Elaneth seemed to guess this.

"We passed through Czechoslovakia already?"

"I do not know. We traveled east. The lands were flat, but a series of mountain ranges began to the north."

The elleth nodded. That was the southern tip of Czechoslovakia.

"And you all took care of me?" Elaneth asked.

Haldir hesitated. To say that was correct was not the whole truth, but neither was it truthful to say he had done it alone. The others would have helped, he was sure, but he had not given them the opportunity. Through every misadventure they had faced, he had been with Elaneth. Although she was sometimes annoying, often frustrating, and always confounding Haldir felt an inexplicable need to protect her.

"Aye," he answered.

Elaneth read the flash in his eyes correctly. He did not wish to sound boastful and claim all the credit for himself.

Haldir could not define how he had wanted her to react, but he knew she did not respond in that way. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. He straightened, unsure of how to respond. His hands hovered over her waist, but finally he placed them gingerly on the small of her back. She pulled him closer and pressed her cheek against his.

"Thank you," she whispered.

As she drew back, her lips lightly brushed against his cheek. If Elaneth noticed his sharp intake of breath or his shock at her action, she said nothing about it. She released him from her embrace, and continued along the path behind Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir, Haldir following a moment later.

Just when he thought he had this elleth figured out, she did something like that! She was such a paradox; tight-lipped about her past, yet open with her emotions. He wanted to question her about the episode, but as her self-appointed protector he would not.

The Mátra Mountains stretched through Hungary from the northwestern Czechoslovakian border clear through the southern tip. The Elves stood at the feet of the smaller mountains in that range, yet they were a daunting challenge for anyone to cross.

"There is another way," Elaneth said, "If we travel north along the mountains we will come to a break in the range. There, the city of Budapest sits on both sides of the Danube. We will have to travel south again on the eastern side of the mountains to come to our destination."

"That is too far out of our way," Elladan stated, "Is there a way to cross over the mountains?"

Elaneth nodded. "Of course. There are many paths, but only few I would recommend. These mountains are what remain of the Misty Mountains, if that would help you decide."

The Elves looked at the mountain range again in awe. Compared to the Misty Mountains, these were hills! Of course, the High Pass was lost and the Gates of Moria buried beneath the Earth. That would make crossing them much harder, but not impossible.

"What exactly is our destination, my Lady?" Elrohir questioned.

They had wondered what lay just to the north of Budapest. They assumed it was some relic from Middle-earth because Elaneth had said it was a safe haven.

"What lies over the Misty Mountains that brings serenity to all who step inside its golden borders?" she asked, moving forwards.

She knew without looking that smiles lit their faces.

"We can find a foot path I'm sure," she called over her shoulder, "Hikers come to the Mátras all the time."

The way up the mountains was hard, but as Elaneth predicted, there were foot paths worn into the alpine slopes of the mountains. At the same time, the climb was easier for the mountains were tranquil and bright. The evil that once lurked in Moria and various tunnels through the mountain range were no more. There were no Orcs to waylay them, no mountain trolls to hunt them for dinner, and no stone giants to hurl rocks at them. The mountains were safer than the bustling cities of Europe with their police patrols. It was odd to think that things had changed so much.

"We should make a camp tonight," Elaneth said, turning to the Elves, "It is best not to come upon that place at night."

"But you said no evil has touched it."

Elaneth nodded. "I did, and it does not. But there is something there. I do not know what it is, but I do not doubt it protects that land at all costs. It would be wise to wait."

They made their camp on a ledge just off their path. The shelf spread into the mountain in the form a small cave, barely more than an overhang. There was little need for shelter. The sky was clear and the weather was warm with the coming of late spring.

They built up a good fire and prepared their first real meal since Zurich. Elladan and Elrohir went to hunt some of the rabbits and pheasants that populated the mountains. Elaneth was not much of a cook, but she offered to prepare a warm broth with the herbs she could gather.

Legolas walked beside Elaneth with his bow in his hand. The elleth was more concerned with the newly blooming flowers than with the herbs. She plucked a handful of orchids and tied them up in her hair. The purple flowers disappeared into her dark hair, but the scent was thick around her.

"Mushrooms," she said, nodding to the patch of fungi, "I wonder if they're edible."

Legolas chuckled, "The hobbits would know."

Elaneth smiled brightly. "I regret never having known a halfling. I've read the Red Book that Bilbo, Frodo, and Samwise wrote. They seem like amazing creatures."

The Elf nodded. "Yes, they were. Are they no more?"

Elaneth sighed. "I'm not sure. There are Irish legends about Little People who play riddle games and disappear the second you turn away. I've always had a suspicion that leprechauns were hobbits, but I cannot say for sure. I know too little about both."

They returned to the camp, having collected all they needed. Elladan, Elrohir, and Haldir were skinning the rabbits for the stew. Elaneth broke up the herbs and stirred them into the stew.

"And dwarves?" Legolas asked.

The elleth laughed. "Now, that is a funny story. You see, dwarves still exists in isolation, as they always have. I have never seen one, however, many men have. They are myths, much like Elves are myths, except that the modern term used to describe these mythological dwarves is 'Elves.'"

Legolas furrowed his brow. "How can an Elf and a Dwarf be mistaken?"

"Well, men say that Elves are small, pointy-eared creatures with pointed-shoes and rosy red cheeks. They either make toys or cookies. That is a description of a dwarf, minus the ears and cookies. We are called Faeries in mythology. We are tiny, beautiful creatures no bigger than a human hand, and the males are hopelessly effeminate, indistinguishable from the females. We have wings and tiny magic wands and as we fly through air, we leave behind trails of glittering gold dust."

The Elves grunted their protests. Elaneth only laughed. Thranduil had also not been impressed with the description men had created of Elves. The ellyth mostly found it amusing at the expense of their fathers, brothers, and husbands.

"That is most insulting," Haldir grumbled.

"You should be glad the creators of such myths never got a glimpse of your silky blond locks for that surely would have been included if they had."

Elaneth giggled girlishly and ran her fingers through Haldir's short hair. He looked no less handsome without his warrior braids, though she preferred them. He looked at her darkly, but with no real threat in his eyes.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak twice, each time deciding against it. When Elaneth glanced at him curiously, he finally summoned the courage to speak.

"You seem better, my Lady."

The camp grew very quiet. Haldir stared angrily at Legolas. Had he not told the Elf to avoid the subject? Elladan and Elrohir said nothing, but turned away slightly. They were not as close to Elaneth as Haldir and Legolas, and did not want to broach such a topic themselves.

"I am well," Elaneth said calmly, "As I have always been after such nightmares."

Her statement left a chill in the air. The admission that this happened frequently was not entirely shocking, but very disheartening. This one simple confession warded off any further questions.

"This night could use a song," Elaneth continued. The sudden shift in topic did not seem apparent to her.

"Then you may grace us with one, Lady," Elrohir smiled.

Elaneth shook her head slightly at his cheeky ways.

"This is the first song I ever learned. I used to hear couples sing it each other all the time. It's a Roman love song."

She began a song in an odd language. It was not one that she had spoken to them, yet it was very similar to Italian. The words flowed off her tongue like wine, and her sweet voice carried the gentle melody perfectly. As she sang, Elaneth became increasingly grateful that the Elves could not understand Latin. The Romans were frank about their love.

_The woodland's silent smile  
Where flowers raise their heads  
And Venus bids you welcome  
Loose your girdle, come to bed  
Indulge yourself. Give in to love.  
_

Her friends appeared fascinated by the short lyrics. Elaneth was not sure if it was the beautiful language of the Romans or the blush on her cheeks that fascinated them.

"Sing us another," Haldir requested.

She nodded, "This is from a different time period, but in the same language."

This song was as slow as the last, with a hint of melancholy hidden in the melody.

_I must sing, whether I will or no.  
I feel so much pain over him  
whose friend I am.  
For I love him more than anything that is.  
But Grace and Poetry  
avail me not at all with him.  
Nor my beauty, nor my virtues, nor my wit.  
I am brought low and betrayed  
as if I had no charms at all._

"Now," she said, "I wish to hear you sing."

She directed it to no particular Elf. They debated for a moment, but finally decided on a song they all knew well. It was a song sang in Tirion when Ithil came to Valinor to rest. It was an old song in Rivendell. Many different kindred of the Elves had lived in that city. Those songs were the universal songs sung in Valinor.

_Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!  
The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;  
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,  
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower. _

"And with that," Elladan said, "We should rest tonight. Tomorrow shall will be full of excitement, I think."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

_The woodland's silent smile  
Where flowers raise their heads  
And Venus bids you welcome  
Loose your girdle, come to bed  
Indulge yourself. Give in to love.  
_

An except from "Vigil of Venus" written by the Governor of Gaul in the year 325 B.C.

There is some discrepancy in the author's name. It is either Tibullus or Tiberianus.

_I must sing, whether I will or no.  
I feel so much pain over him  
whose friend I am.  
_

"I Must Sing" written by the Countess of Die in the around the year 1100 A.D.


	18. A Safe Haven

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Seventeen**

"**A Safe Haven"**

The Elves descended the mountain the next morning. The rocky trail leveled out gradually, and blooming flowers and lush grass sprang up along the path as they descended. This plain looked a lot like the one on the western side of the mountain with tall grasses, the trees whispering in the breeze, and brightly colored flowers dotted the landscape.

"This is the Kisalföld," Elaneth said, "It means "little plain" in Hungarian."

Legolas shook his head. "That word is Rohirric."

Elaneth laughed, unwilling to argue with him. It was once Rohan, so she believed him.

In the far northern distance, a forest was nestled in a giant cleft in the Mátra Mountains. The trees were the tallest the Elves had yet seen in the new world. The canopy was full, bright green, and the wind whistled through the leaves. They did not look like unusual trees, yet there was a sense of wisdom about them. There was a moment of silence in the valley, when neither bird chirped nor woodland creature stirred. That moment was broken by the distinct, if somewhat distant, sound of groaning bark.

"The trees," Legolas whispered, "They're calling to us."

Elaneth nodded. "That is why I wanted to come here. We will find safety among the trees that still love us."

"Lothlórien," Haldir said, in awe.

The last time Haldir had seen the Golden Wood was shortly after Lord Celeborn had moved from East Lórien in Eryn Lasgalen to Imladris with Elladan and Elrohir. Haldir had made the journey to his homeland to give a message to his Silvan kindred. Lord Celeborn had wanted them to know that he would soon depart over the Sea. Some Lothlórien Elves had followed Haldir back to Imladris, but most had remained in their ancient home. From what Elaneth had said, Haldir gathered that those Elves had eventually moved to Thranduil's realm in the north and integrated with those Silvan Elves. He wondered what Lady Galadriel would think of that.

Their pace was quick as they crossed the Kisaföld as the woods of Lothlórien beckoned them to hurry into the safety.

Haldir was at once thrilled and disappointed by what he found. The forest was considerably smaller than it had been when he had lived there. Only the northern section of the forest still stood, which meant that the city of Caras Galadhon was no more. The mallyrn also were gone, and with them the talans so loved by the Silvan Elves. Haldir had often been stationed on the northern marches of the forest during the time of the Necromancer and Nazgûl at Dol Guldur. He knew the land well, but it had changed greatly.

"Were these your marches?" Elaneth asked.

Haldir nodded. "Often times they were."

They entered the forest slowly. A distinct power lingered in the forest, but it was not the power of Galadriel. It was not as subtle as the Lady of Light's guard; rather, it was strong and haunting. It was the power of a Maia.

A memory flashed behind Haldir's eyes, and he wondered how he had forgotten it. In Valinor, when he had looked into Galadriel's mirror, he had seen a young man sleeping in Lothlórien. He wondered now if some of the images in the mirror were of the future, and not of the past as he had thought they were. Certainly the Council was in the past, and Haldir thought he had seen Arwen Evenstar in the mirror. He looked over to Elaneth, who was talking softly with the sons of Elrond, pointing to the north. Yes, it was definitely Elaneth he had seen in the Mirror.

"There will be a man here," Haldir said.

His companions turned to him.

"I saw three images in the Mirror of Galadriel before we departed Valinor. I thought they were all from the past because I saw the Council, Arwen Evenstar, and a man sleeping beneath the green canopy of Lothlórien. But they were not of the past. It was Elaneth I saw, not Lady Arwen."

"Then you saw the Maia whom we feel?" Elladan asked.

Haldir nodded. "He has taken the guise of a lanky, sandy-haired young man."

Elaneth's face lit with recognition. "Now I know who is here, but not where he will be. He will aid our quest if it is within his power."

The Elves continued through the forest, spreading out to search thoroughly for this Maia whom Haldir claimed would be asleep. The forest seemed foreign without Caras Galadhon, but Haldir was still thankful to be in his homeland once again. He had not been terribly young or old when he left Lothlórien, but he felt the attachment to the realm as would a young elfling who knew no other home, or an aged grandfather who had never left the boughs of a mallyrn.

"You saw me in Lady Galadriel's mirror?" Elaneth asked, and Haldir nodded. "And you did not realize until now?"

The march warden turned to her astounded. "I have told you many times that you look like Undómiel."

Elaneth became quiet again. Haldir wondered if he should stop telling her that. Arwen had been the second most beautiful Elf-maiden ever born, after Lúthien. He thought Elaneth could easily qualify as the third most beautiful elleth, but she did not seem to be comfortable knowing that. She looked so similar to the Evenstar though. Of course, Elladan and Elrohir disagreed, but Haldir held his position firmly. It was very strange for a Silvan Elf, even for one with Sindar blood, to look so … well, Noldorin.

As Elaneth and Haldir walked further into the forest, Legolas and the sons of Elrond lagged behind. Elaneth and Haldir kept walking, giving the others some privacy. The three stood in a line, silently gazing at the mound in front of them. Unlike most of the world, the hill of Cerin Amroth remained unchanged. Legolas turned away first, giving the brothers a moment.

Elladan and Elrohir had sailed to Valinor only a few short years before Aragorn's passing. Legolas had brought word to them that Arwen had made her final resting place on Cerin Amroth; Legolas himself had traveled with Arwen to Lothlórien, but had returned alone. That had been Legolas's final journey abroad. After he had returned to Ithilien he had built the ship to sail West with Gimli. Without Aragorn and Arwen, Faramir and Éowyn, Merry and Pippin, Sam and Frodo, Boromir, Éomer, or Mithrandir, there was no reason to remain in Middle-earth.

When Elladan and Elrohir retreated from Cerin Amroth, they were silent, and there were tears in their eyes. Even after five thousand years, the sting of Arwen's absence in Valinor was still noticeable. The peace that had been granted to them in Valinor seemed to dissipate the longer they remained in this new world. The sorrow of Arwen's death had returned to Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas.

"When did the mallyrn die?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth sighed. "When the southern part of the forest was burned."

Haldir sucked in his breath, and turned to her sharply. "Who would do such a thing?"

The march warden had not failed to notice the haunted look that entered her eyes at times. It was as if a shroud was cast over her, and separated her from the world. It was transparent enough to give her hope of breaking through it, yet heavy enough to frighten her with asphyxiation.

"Ostrogoths."

Haldir did not understand that word, but he knew Elaneth would not explain. She moved forward, leaving him behind for a moment. She seemed to be looking for tracks or a path on the ground, but there was nothing. Yet she walked confidently as if she had taken this path many times. Elaneth led him up a steep incline covered with daisies and morning glories. Haldir noted that there seemed to be no elanor anywhere in the forest.

She stopped at the top of hill and pointed down. They stood on the southern tip of a natural basin in the earth. The grass was tall and lush, and a sea of wild flowers bloomed in the bowl. Lying in the center of the basin, sunbathing and napping, was a Maia in the form a skinny, blond-haired man dressed in contrasting shades of blue.

Elaneth hurried down the hill to the sleeping figure, who was completely unaware that anyone had entered the forest that he called home. Haldir wondered what kind of Maia was caught off guard.

"Wake up, Sárëawë," she said, gently touching the Maia's arm.

The Maia started awake. He squinted at the midday sun in his eyes, lifted his hand to block the bright rays, and turned to Elaneth. He bolted upright then and smiled brightly at elleth.

"Idhriniel! You've come to see me again!"

Elaneth smiled and flung her arms around the Maia's neck. Haldir watched the scene curiously. He wondered how Elaneth knew a Maia so informally, and why he called her Idhriniel. He thought that might be her birth name, but he wasn't about to ask after the cold reception he had received to the same question only a few nights before.

"Elaneth," she whispered, into Sárëawë's ear.

The Maia nodded. "Forgive me, wise-child and star-gift."

Elaneth beamed. "Forgiven. Now come and meet my friends."

As Elaneth introduced Haldir to the Maia, the march warden placed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. Sárëawë seemed to enjoy the display. Apparently, he was on such friendly terms with the remaining wood-elves that he did not often receive such a formal greeting.

"Mae govannen," the Maia smiled, "But, Elaneth, you said friends. I see only one Elf."

"We will take you to the other three."

"Are any of the three as beautiful as you, my dear wise-child? For if they are, I may yet descend from my lofty heights and follow in the path of my beloved sister Melian."

Haldir frowned at the Maia. Those words were too flowery for any male to utter. Elaneth laughed, however, and looped her arm with Sárëawë's.

"They are all male."

"Then I will not follow Melian's example with them."

Elaneth laughed again, but Haldir turned away from the Maia. He thought only silly young Elves acted so foolishly.

"Thranduil let you travel so far with four ellyn?" Sárëawë questioned, one eyebrow raised.

Haldir scowled further. Was this Maia actually questioning their integrity?

"Well, I was only to travel as far as England. We ran into some trouble, however, and Andre was not able to take my place. Otherwise, I would have remained in London with Lilly and Colin. We will tell you our story."

Sárëawë nodded. Haldir noted that he seemed to know a great deal about Elaneth's life. He wondered if Sárëawë was to the remaining Elves like Gandalf had been to the Hobbits.

Legolas turned at the sound of voices. Haldir and Elaneth were returning with someone. He called the sons of Elrond over to him, and the two Elves and one stranger emerged from the trees a moment later. Haldir led the way, scowling deeply, but Elaneth and the stranger spoke as if they were old friends.

This was obviously the Maia they felt protecting the Golden Wood. He had assumed the shape of a man, but it seemed that as he walked towards them his appearance morphed slowly to resemble that of an Elf. He wore the old style of clothing, but newly made. His leggings and tunic were dusty gray, but his mantle was royal blue, and upon of his chest was the symbol of a garden, the insignia of the Valar Lórien.

"Sárëawë, this is Legolas Thranduilion. Legolas, this is Sárëawë, Maia of Lórien."

"Mae govannen, Thranduilion."

The Maia turned abruptly to face Elladan and Elrohir, surveying them curiously.

"Noldor?" he asked, turning to Elaneth, "This should be some story."

"Elladan, Elrohir, this is Sárëawë. Sárëawë, these are the sons of Elrond."

The Maia's expression changed again. He suddenly looked very pleased to see the twins. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed to them.

"Welcome to my home, heirs of my sister."

The twins were startled by such a gesture for Maiar were above bowing to mere Elves. Also, his greeting seemed odd because they were not heirs to anyone but their father.

"Sárëawë's sister is Melian," Elaneth explained.

They nodded, understanding. "Then there is no need to bow, ancient kinsman," Elladan said.

"Nay," Sárëawë protested, "She is my older sister."

After a brief moment of jesting and laughing, Sárëawë remembered his manners. He had not been to Valinor in so long that he had begun to act like men. The thought both startled and dismayed him.

"Please, come and rest. You have obviously traveled very far. I do not have much to offer you here, except a safe haven for as long as you would like. If you had come sooner, I could have given you the peaceful dreams of Lórien, but alas, I can no longer do that."

Elaneth seemed shocked by the admission. It became clear to the Elves that this was a recent development.

"Why not, Sárëawë? The last we met, you and Lohtië said …"

"Much has changed since then, wise-child."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas looked to each other curiously at the title the Maia used with Elaneth. Her name meant "star-gift," not "wise-child." That name would be Idhriniel. Haldir focused his concentration on the Maia, hoping not to betray Elaneth's wish to be called only by her chosen name.

"My powers are gone. What you feel protecting this forest is only a remnant of what it once was. That too is fading. Then, I will have nowhere to go but Eryn Lasgalen. Lohtië has already gone to find Adonniel in Oregon. She is heartbroken that she cannot cure the earth. She feels she has failed Yavanna. We all feel that way."

"We have come to help, Sárëawë," Elrohir declared, "The Valar sent us as emissaries."

Sárëawë looked very relieved to hear this. "It was Ulmo who alerted the Valar, was it not? Ilúvatar bless the Lord of the Waters! For so long we have felt our powers drain. The weight of the world is heavy, for there are many, many hurts for us to heal. Without our powers we cannot do so, yet we cannot return home either. The earth grows stale without Lohtië, the tides are reckless without Ossë, the wind is harsh without Fánaséro, and they grow weary without me. We thought we were doomed to become useless ghosts."

"Then no one has abducted Maiar at all. You're just trapped here? How?" Elaneth asked.

A smile appeared on Sárëawë's lips. "Abducted Maiar? That's an interesting conclusion, wise-child."

The way he emphasized "wise" sounded like mirthful sarcasm, something that didn't please Elaneth much.

"How many Maiar are trapped in Arda?" Elaneth asked, pursing her lips.

She had not asked him before because it seemed a moot point. They had their powers, and they were content to work until the Valar sent them aid. Sárëawë sighed and shook his head.

"I cannot say. Hundreds? Thousands? Most have faded. They do not have the strength to keep their physical forms any longer. I was sent here only recently, five years past. Lohtië and Fánaséro were sent with me. We found only Ossë and the river-daughters still able to take physical form. Arien says she has never felt evil touch her. I suppose blacking out the Sun would alert the Valar immediately, so she is left alone."

"Ulmo comes often to Arda," Elladan said, "It would be foolish to cause his Maiar to disappear so soon."

The Maia of Lórien nodded. "Yes, this has been carefully planned. I only wish I knew who planned it. Then, perhaps, Fánaséro could think of a way to break the spell on the Barrier so that we may return."

The Elves smiled at Sárëawë's submission to the Maia of Wind. Even away from Valinor, the Maia of Manwë was head of the Order of Maiar.

"We know who has done this," Elaneth said, "It is Hitler, and possibly Mussolini also."

Sárëawë sighed deeply. "I should have known. I long suspected they plotted some evil, but I have been absent from the events of the world of men since my powers began to fade. I retreated here, to see if I could find reprieve for myself."

"You know their identities?" Elladan asked, "That is all we must report to the Valar. They have vowed to destroy whatever evil threatens the Maiar."

Sárëawë gave a little laugh. "Well, of course I know who they are. I am mightier than they! I did not realize that they plotted against anyone but men, however."

"Who are they, Sárëawë?" Elrohir prompted.

"Have you not guessed? They have placed a spell on the Barrier. They have placed a spell on the world of men! Who else could they be, my dear Eldar?"

The Elves shook their heads. Sárëawë sighed, with a small chuckle thrown in for good measure.

"Istari. Alatar and Pallando."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Alatar and Pallando: **They are mentioned in "Unfinished Tales" as the Blue Wizards. Tolkien very specifically stated that Alatar was the servant of Oromë. The identity of Pallando is a stated two different ways. I have chosen to make him the servant of Nienna and Mandos. Tolkien also said that Gandalf was the only wizard to fulfill his duty (Christopher Tolkien later added that Radagast to the list). I take that to mean that both Alatar and Pallando went to the dark side. I will explain more in later chapters.

By the way … Did anyone catch the foreshadow to the villains in Chapter One? Anyone notice that I called Radagast the GRAY wizard? Anyone?


	19. The Gardens of Lorien

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Eighteen**

"**The Gardens of Lórien"**

The Elves and Maia sat around talking quietly in the basin, the part of the forest where Sárëawë had made his home. He enjoyed the simplest pleasures the earth had to offer. Lohtië, a servant to Yavanna, had healed the forest of Lothlórien for Sárëawë before she had retreated to Oregon to be with Adonniel and the other Silvan ellyth. Sárëawë did not hunt or build fires at night because he had all he needed with the fruit trees and starlight. He no longer had his powers to grant rest to the weary, but an aura of peace followed him everywhere. The Elves felt their burdens ebbing away with the serenity of Sárëawë's presence.

The Elves relayed their tale in brief to the Maia. Elaneth was grateful that Elladan had skipped the part about traveling to Eryn Ellvalan, but Sárëawë had guessed that that was their path, however, for it was the quickest way to get from Austria to Hungary by foot. He also knew about Elaneth's terrible nightmares as he had eased her of that burden many times in the past.

"You will not be able to return to Valinor."

Sárëawë's statement was not completely unexpected, but devastating nonetheless. The Elves could not triumph over two Istari.

"So the blue wizards have finally emerged," Haldir mused. "Oromë, Nienna, and Mandos were so worried when they did not return with Olórin."

"Oh, they are no longer blue," Sárëawë stated. "Did you not notice that either?"

"I was aware that the Nazis wear brown and the fasci di combattimento wear black, but we just learned of Hitler and Mussolini's identities. How could we have known?" Elaneth asked.

"Because the Nazis wear brown and the fasci di combattimento wear black," Sárëawë answered, a sneer in his voice. "An Istar never forsakes his color."

"True, but neither are they arbitrarily given a new color," Elladan pointed out.

"You don't know the story?" Sárëawë asked, surprised.

When all the Elves shook their heads, he told them the tale of how Alatar had become the Brown Wizard.

"Sometime after Olórin and Radagast returned to Valinor, Alatar died. He was not wicked then; he and Pallando had served their purpose in the East. He died in battle from a poisoned arrow while defending the tribe of Bór, but the Southrons captured Pallando. Alatar immediately departed the Halls of Mandos and went to see Oromë; he desperately wanted to free Pallando from the clutches of those evil men. Nienna and Mandos urged Oromë to grant Alatar leave to return to Middle-earth. He did, but not before he gave his servant more power. Radagast is the Gray wizard now, is he not?"

The ellyn nodded. Nearly two millennia ago, Radagast had been elevated to the color gray. No one knew why, and Mithrandir would say nothing about it. Except, of course, to tell them not to ask, as it was not their business.

"Alatar was made the Brown Wizard. He came back to this world, freed Pallando, and they returned to the tribe of Bór. Time passes differently for Men and Maia. Several centuries passed before Alatar and Pallando found the tribe of Bór because that tribe had been conquered, enslaved, and displaced many times. Finally, the Wizards found the tribe of Bór in the Roman land called Judea."

Elaneth shook her head. "This does not make sense, Sárëawë. The men of Bór are the Hebrews, the Jews. They are the very people you say Alatar died defending. Now he slaughters thousands of them everyday!"

Sárëawë was at a loss for words. When he had said that he was out of touch with current affairs, he was being truthful. He had known Alatar went by the name of Adolph Hitler, and Pallando called himself Benito Mussolini, and he knew that both were the leaders of Germany and Italy respectively. He was unaware of their politics, however.

"I cannot explain anything more to you, wise-child. I was summoned to return to Valinor just a few years after your birth. That was around the time Alatar and Pallando entered Judea. If anyone could explain it, it would be you. You were alive and in the Roman Empire during that time."

Elaneth shook her head. "I only traveled to Judea once. There is not a chance in Mandos that Alatar is Jesus Christ. I never heard any other significant story come from Judea. I know nothing about why his loyalties have changed."

Sárëawë chuckled softly, "No, he is definitely not Jesus."

The Elves were confused, but Elaneth offered no explanation. She knew the story of Jesus of Nazareth well, but she did not feel like illustrating the cruelty of men once more. Haldir had stopped ranting about the race of men, and she wanted to keep it that way. But at the moment she did not feel like defending men either.

"What about Pallando? How did he come to be the Black Wizard?"

Sárëawë laughed darkly. "I know not. Maybe he was jealous that Alatar received a new color and he did not."

The Maia could barely contain his laughter until the end of his joke, and the Elves laughed with him. Somehow, it was easier to laugh with Sárëawë around.

"Then what is our path?" Legolas asked. "We cannot return to Valinor, yet we cannot run forever from the men who hunt us."

The Elves fell silent, but Sárëawë began singing a quiet song.

_In Dwimordene, in Lórien  
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,  
Few mortal eyes have seen the light  
That lies there ever, long and bright. _

"You want us to stay here?" Elladan asked.

Sárëawë nodded. "Alatar and Pallando will not come here. They know my powers are diminished, but they are fearful that Fánaséro is with me. I think he is still mighty enough to foil their plans."

"Did you see anything else in the Mirror of Galadriel, Haldir?" Elrohir asked.

The march warden shook his head. "I saw only the three images I told you about: the Council, Elaneth, and Sárëawë."

The Maia smiled. "Then at least you know your journey has gone correctly so far. Perhaps I am your last chance of help."

"Would you be willing to help? To leave the safety of Lothlórien?" Elrohir asked.

The Maia looked affronted. "I am a servant of Lórien. As such, I have sworn to aid any quest which the Valar see fit to assign. As brother to Melian, I am honored to help her heirs. Not to mention that, by order of Olórin, I am to keep this one safe."

He motioned to Elaneth. The Elves looked at her curiously again. The mystery surrounding this elleth grew with each passing day.

"Then what do you counsel, my wise friend?" Elaneth asked.

Sárëawë thought for a moment. "It is not for me to decide. The Valar gave this task to you for a reason. I will abide by your decision."

"We volunteered," Haldir informed him.

The Maia noted the veiled challenge in the march warden's statement. He did not respond, however.

"Then we have two choices. Meet the evil of Alatar and Pallando head on, or hide in Lothlórien until the Valar send someone else to help us," Elladan said. "But we cannot hide here forever. According to Sárëawë's story and Elaneth's predictions, their evil will spread."

There was a unanimous decision to do something. The trouble was deciding on the action.

"Pallando is the weaker wizard. We could try to defeat him first. Then Alatar would be left without his companion. He would be weaker," Elrohir suggested.

Haldir shook his head. "We would only alert him to our intentions. If we attack Alatar first and defeat him, Pallando will be left completely alone. He will be easier to defeat without Alatar. That is presumably how the Southrons, mere men, caught him before."

"If we fail to destroy Alatar, he and Pallando will redouble their efforts to kill us," Elladan argued.

Elaneth and Legolas sat back and let the others argue. Legolas was not one to offer his opinion freely. Even when he was Prince of Eryn Silivren he had followed Aragorn and Faramir's leadership, but Elaneth simply did not wish to make the choice. Either way she felt that they were doomed to fail, yet if it were her preference, she would go after Pallando first. She longed to see the city of Rome again, and that was the Fascist headquarters.

"What say you, Elaneth? You know their strengths and weaknesses better than us."

Elaneth sighed. She looked to Legolas for help, but he only offered her a sympathetic smile.

"My choice should not stand as our decision simply because it is mine. I would choose Pallando. He is weaker both in color and political status."

Despite Elaneth's statement that her choice should not be the decision, it was. Her words cemented the will of Elladan and Elrohir. Haldir seemed none too pleased to hear her speak against him. She had hoped he would understand. She wanted to see Rome as much as he wanted to see Lothlórien. Sárëawë motioned to the forest surrounding the basin.

"Then make yourselves at home, my friends. There will be no talk of politics, missions, or evil for a few days. You are in the garden of Lórien. Find reprieve from your sorrows."

* * *

Elaneth wandered through the forest aimlessly. She loved the Golden Wood, despite the lack of mallyrn. It was so quiet and serene, unlike the forests in Oregon. She was grateful for the thick trees in her home state, but it was not the same as Lothlórien. Here no highway split the wood in half, no lumberjack toiled a few miles away, and no tourists trekked the well-marked paths. Lothlórien was the way nature was meant to be: tranquil, pure, and beautiful. 

The elleth saw Haldir standing up ahead in a clearing of trees. Elaneth recognized the place as the meeting between the Celebrant and Nimrodel, both of which had dried up. She turned back from her path, wishing to give the march warden time alone in his old home.

"You don't have to go," he called over his shoulder.

"Finally, you can feel me approach," she teased.

That thought had not occurred to Haldir until she said it. It was true. For the first time, he had felt her approaching.

"I hope that you are not angry that I spoke against you today," she continued.

Haldir hesitated for a moment, but shook his head. "I was outnumbered anyhow. Elladan and Elrohir are my Lords as surely as Celeborn is. I could not have defied them."

Haldir was stunned by his own words. Since when did he defend any Elf who did not agree with him? He was a Lothlórien march warden for Ilúvatar's sake! He allowed dissent only from his equals and superiors. But then he chided himself silently. Elaneth was his superior. She was a Sindarin Princess. When did he forget that?

"Good," she said, stepping up to him. "It does not sit well with me to have ill feelings between us."

"I think that is unavoidable, given our views on men."

"One day, I think we may understand one another."

"Oh? You plan to unveil the mystery of Elaneth to me?"

The elleth narrowed her eyes playfully. "Why? Will you unveil the mystery of Haldir to me?"

Haldir turned to her with one eyebrow raised. She was teasing him, but he could not resist answering her. He knew he was partly rising to the bait, but he doubted she would suspect his response.

"Ah, so I am a mystery to you as well. Is it because I am aloof and a pompous ass?" A smile broke on Elaneth's lips. "And yet you have the easier job trying to figure me out. I have very few secrets beneath my stern manner. You, my dear, have a thousand secrets hidden behind your emotions."

Haldir was right. Elaneth had not expected that. She had done so well forgetting her past until the Valinóreans showed up. More specifically, since Haldir and his man-hating ideas showed up. She did not have an answer for him.

The cold, stern look had disappeared from his bright eyes as he watched Elaneth. He looked like he had the night Elaneth had saw him sleeping: unguarded, compassionate, and young. He knew very few details of her life, yet he knew enough to guess the atrocities that she had witnessed. It startled her to be confronted with how much he knew about her. No one knew that much. Not even the Elves she had led to Finland knew what their Princess had seen at Eryn Ellvalan.

She started at the feathery touch of Haldir's fingers on her cheek. She fought hard against the tears in her eyes. He had seen her cry, kill, and unconscious in a nightmare induced sleep. She could not bear to let him see her weak again, yet the gentle sympathy in his eyes threatened to put her over the edge. She found it absurd that after seeing elflings hanged, ellyth raped, and innocent Elves burned alive, she would still cry at tender emotions.

She leaned into his touch. She had been granted so little empathy in her life. Elaneth had had to give all her strength to her people. She had sung to the orphaned elflings, held the widowed ellyth as they cried, and stood in the front of the army with the ellyn. She was Idhriniel, the wise-child of the wood-elves. She had given all she could to her people, yet her people had not considered giving anything in return to their Princess.

Before the tears could spill from her eyes, Haldir pulled her gently to him. She was as tall as him, but he tilted her head back gently anyway. She relaxed against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips met slowly and tenderly in their first kiss. There was no sense of urgency to deepen the kiss nor to break it. Perhaps it was the tranquility of the forest seeping into them, but they were at ease with each other.

As they pulled apart slowly, they experienced something unique to Elven-kind. Like Thingol and Melian so many long millennia before them, love and beauty had taken them by the hand and guided them to a place inside the immortal soul where time did not exist. The hours had passed like minutes, the sun had set and risen again, the moon had completed a cycle, and it was their third day in Lórien.


	20. Intimations

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Nineteen**

"**Intimations"**

The days passed quickly in Lothlórien, for it was sheltered from the evils of the world. The Elves seized the opportunity to rest, to explore, and to remember those who had once lived in the Golden Wood. The lands of Arda had changed a great deal, and though the southern rim of Lothlórien was burned, the part that remained was a piece of Middle-earth preserved.

Only when the moon completed its cycle twice did the Elves begin to feel the pressing of time. Even Sárëawë expressed an urgency to depart. Being a Maia of Lórien, he did not usually feel anxiety, but he felt his power over the forest rapidly depleting. He could not guard the Elves from the spreading evil of Alatar and Pallando for much longer.

The companions began their journey again in late June. Their path led them south towards the city of Budapest. There they would board a train for Rome. They were not traveling through German Occupied Territory, but the all the countries between Hungary and Italy were German allies. Elaneth had anticipated being safer on the trip, but two months had passed since their departure from Berlin. That was plenty of time for the Germans to send out an A.P.B to every military command center in Europe.

Budapest lay two hours south of Lothlórien. The day was pleasant, and the travelers did not hurry along their path. The Mátra Mountains and the rolling meadows of the Kisaföld were far behind them. The land rolled gently up and down, covered in tall grass and brightly colored wildflowers. The sweet scent of honey and nectar filled the air. Bees buzzed from flower to flower, rabbits bounced after one another through the fields, and a plethora of birds chirped from their nests in the scattered trees. Hungary looked more like the Shire than Rhovanion or Rohan.

It was late afternoon when the Elves and Maia arrived at the outskirts of Budapest. Elaneth and Sárëawë had made sure to steer their course slightly east to follow the Danube. In doing so, they had bypassed the more populous villages outside of the city.

"We can't go into Budapest looking like vagabonds from a medieval battle recreation," Elaneth stated, dropping her pack on the ground. "I will go find the nearest shop and get us some decent clothing."

"You can't go alone," Haldir said, hurriedly.

Elaneth raised an eyebrow at him. "We can't go together. It will be hard enough to stay incognito alone."

"Haldir is right, Elaneth. You cannot go alone. It is too dangerous to separate," Legolas said.

The elleth held up her hands. "Fine then. Someone come with me, but only one other person. We're not in Germany, but that doesn't mean we can't be caught by Nazis."

Haldir laid his pack next to Elaneth's and tightened the quiver strap across his chest.

"You're coming with me?" Elaneth asked.

Haldir nodded. She looked to Sárëawë, as she had assumed he would be the one to accompany her into Budapest. He would know the modern city even better than she did, but the Maia made no move to start for the city. Instead, he eased off his pack and sat next to Elrohir.

"Very well," Elaneth answered. "Take off your weapons."

"I will not go unarmed."

The elleth sighed. "Then you won't go. Legol-"

"It is foolish to walk through enemy territory without a weapon. Anyone with common sense knows that."

Elaneth turned to him sharply. "How thick is your skull, Haldir? We can't be noticed!"

Their four companions were startled. No one addressed Haldir in such a way and lived to tell about it. The march warden stood at his full height, but Elaneth was just as tall.

The two Elves regarded each other coolly for a long moment. There was an intense debate of wills between them that neither was willing to lose. Elaneth was determined to keep this Elf under control at all costs. They could not afford one false move, and only Elaneth knew how to keep them under the Nazi radar. She would not give in just because his kisses swept away her sorrow and despair for hours at a time. Likewise, Haldir was unwilling to give in to this elleth simply because she distracted his every thought.

There was a tense moment when the outcome of the silent debate was unknown. Much to the Elves' surprise, including the two engaged in the battle of wills, Haldir unbuckled his sword belt. He laid the broadsword, quiver, and bow with his pack. His eyebrows were furrowed as he did all of this. Not even he could fathom his own thinking. He only knew that Elaneth's will was ready to break, and being the cause of that seemed worse than conceding defeat.

As Haldir and Elaneth disappeared down the hill towards the tourist district of Budapest, the tension slowly dissipated. The remaining Elves and Maia let out a sigh of relief. Whatever in Mandos had made Elaneth say such a stupid thing was beyond them. As for Haldir's reaction … well, that was an even greater mystery.

"Never do that again."

Elaneth nodded. She wondered what on earth had made her so mellow. If anyone else had ordered her around like that, they would have felt her wrath both verbally and physically. No one had dared to order her around in almost fifteen hundred years. Not even Thranduil issued his orders so blatantly. She rationalized that she had clearly injured Haldir's pride in front of his Lords, and nearly laughed at the thought. A few months before, she had thought Haldir needed nothing more than to lose some of his inflated pride.

The trip into the city was short and easy. The land to the west of the Danube inclined steeply, where the governmental district and richer parts of the city were built. Closer to the middle of the hill was the business district, and finally, at the river, was the tourist section.

There were very few tourists abroad these days, but some people were brave enough to face the threat of a German-allied nation. Many of those tourists were citizens of neutral countries such as Sweden and Switzerland or even rich Germans not affected by the strain a wartime economy and rationing.

Elaneth ducked into the first clothing shop she spotted. It was hard to find a shop that sold modern clothes in the tourist district. Most sold traditional Hungarian clothing that intrigued tourists but gave the wrong impression of Hungarian life.

As Elaneth had expected, the selection was scanty. The rails of suits and dresses were only half-full, though the shopkeeper took extra care to mask that fact as much as possible. In addition to having few clothes, the choices of color were slim as well. All the clothes were black, white, or gray with very little variation in shade or style.

"There is so little cotton," she mumbled, glancing around.

"What is cotton?" Haldir asked.

He did not approve of the selection of suits. They were of poor quality and very plain. The clothes Elaneth had bought for them in the United States and Ireland were much better.

"It is a type of material clothes are made from nowadays. It's like wool, but lighter."

"Why can we not wear wool?"

"Men don't know how to weave wool like Elves do," she said. "It's heavy and it itches, like Dúnedain clothes, I imagine."

Haldir's face showed his displeasure at the thought. A tiny smile touched the corners of Elaneth's lips. She imagined the Elves scratching at wool clothes and fidgeting uncomfortably in leather.

"Yes, we need cotton. It is nice and warm here, but in Italy it will be sweltering," she explained.

They chose from the small selection of clothing rather quickly. It was clear that Elaneth did not want to linger in the city for long. The elleth found just enough clothes to outfit each Elf and Sárëawë so that none of them matched exactly. Elaneth had better luck with dresses, but the colors were the same drab neutrals.

After a moment of contemplation, Elaneth decided to forgo shoes. She guessed that there was a similarly small collection. At any rate, the leather boots made in Valinor were sturdier and did not stand out so much as leggings and tunics. She paused at the rack only to grab a pair of high heels for herself, since it would look ridiculous to wear boots with a dress.

The shopkeeper eyed the Elves suspiciously as they unloaded their arms onto the countertop. Elaneth imaged she had had very little business since war broke out. The supply lines were all but cut off, and what material could come into Hungary either went to the Army or to Germany. Elaneth and Haldir were buying the entire stock of cotton. The shopkeeper addressed them harshly, demanding to see their money.

Haldir noted that the language was not entirely divorced from the guttural German language, but it did not sound so ugly. It sounded quite like Weston to an Elf: hard, yet fluent and harmonic. Elaneth shook her head apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand."

The woman sighed deeply. A sneer formed on her upper lip.

Elaneth laid out five hundred deutsch marks, which was what she assumed the woman was waiting for. With a grunt, the shopkeeper rang up the clothes.

"She did not like us," Haldir said, as they left the shop.

"She thought we were American. From what she has probably heard, every American lives like a king. The fact that I had five hundred deutsch marks in paper money was enough to prove her theory correct. We should hurry back."

The sun sank rapidly behind the horizon. In summertime that meant the city-wide curfew was only hours away. Haldir and Elaneth retraced their steps to the outskirts of the city where Legolas, Sárëawë, and the sons of Elrond were reclining on the grass and waiting patiently for their return.

"This is what we found," Elaneth said, handing out the clothes. "It is probably the best in all of Budapest."

"Did they not have anything … finer?" Elrohir asked, inspecting the sports jacket.

"They hardly had anything," Haldir answered. "Elaneth said cotton is rationed."

That made little sense to the Elves. Only Sárëawë seemed to understand, but he did not attempt to explain. The idea of clothing made in a factory was relatively new to the whole world. Only recently could an individual afford to have more than three changes of clothes. Elves certainly would not understand or embrace the concept of mass production.

Elaneth disappeared into a copse of trees, taking her dress with her. The Elves hurried into their suits, arguing amongst themselves over colors. Legolas was nonplussed that there was no green, while Elladan and Elrohir fussed at having to wear matching clothes.

Elaneth appeared a moment later, wearing a gray dress. It was not her idea of a luxury item, but it would do well in the Italian climate. The Elves looked similarly displeased with their suits. Perhaps in Rome the selection of clothing would be better.

She smiled coyly at the sight of the half-dressed Elves. Not one of them was as lanky as they seemed. Their muscles were hard and defined from their many years as warriors, Rangers, and march wardens. It was Haldir who received most of Elaneth's attention, but her eyes drifted to Elladan and Elrohir also. Their human heritage showed itself in their broad shoulders and thick builds.

"Stop acting like elfings."

The Elves started at her approach, having not heard her. They scrambled to put on their shirts. She laughed softly, finally turning away.

"We should go to the train station now."

"We are leaving tonight?" Legolas asked.

Elaneth nodded. "We are not safe anywhere anymore. If we can make it onto the train, we will have three days of peace. It is unlikely that a train between Hungary and Italy will be stopped for inspection."

They did not argue with her because Elaneth knew the political climate of Europe best. If she claimed there was danger in a certain area, then there probably was. Her predictions had been proven true so far.

The trip to the train station was uneventful. The Elves admired the city as they walked, but did not draw undue attention to themselves. Budapest was old and classic in both appearance and feel. The palace of the King overlooking the city, the small shops, and cobblestone streets reminded the Elves fondly of cities like Emyn Arnen and Dol Amroth.

"Do you have the passport Thranduil gave you?" Elaneth asked.

Sárëawë held up the small square of paper triumphantly. Elaneth gave the Maia a relived smile. The document said that he was United States citizen, but that was not such a suspicious thing in Hungary. If for some reason they had to return to Germany, then they would have a major problem.

The routine of boarding a train had become a rather normal experience for the Elves. The location of train depots and the processes of purchasing tickets and boarding the train seemed to be uniform throughout the world. To Elaneth's relief, no S.S. soldiers looked over the shoulders of the Hungarian customs workers. They were civilians doing the job they had done before the war and would continue to do afterwards. There were no "wanted" posters with photographs of the Elves posted anywhere, nor did the customs agents eye them suspiciously.

As they boarded the train, Elaneth peered over her shoulder one last time. She almost expected to see some S.S. men slither out from the shadows, but she was relived to see nothing unusual. Her fears were allayed for that moment, and she believed the journey to Rome would be peaceful.

She did not think to look for Italian Black Shirts.


	21. The Eternal City

**Author's Note: **Err … scratch that … **AUTHOR'S WARNING!** This chapter discusses the Christian religion. Namely, one of the possible ways that Tolkien's Valar system and modern Christianity might overlap. If you think you might be offended by this sort of discussion, I strongly urge you to not read this chapter!

You have been duly warned …

* * *

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty**

"**The Eternal City"**

Legolas glanced over his shoulder, scanning the crowd on the platform. For three days he had felt the prickling sensation of eyes watching him. He sensed no tangible malice, yet the idea that he was watched continually grated on his nerves. If his companions had noticed it, they had said nothing about it.

Elaneth seemed completely oblivious to anything other than their destination. Although her heart belonged to the vast libraries of Alexandria, Rome was her birth city and home country. Even after its tragic fall to the Barbarians, she had always considered herself Roman. She rambled for hours on end about the city, the customs, and the history of Rome.

Elladan and Elrohir listened to her intently, mostly for their own amusement. Their father and Erestor would have given anything to have a pupil like Elaneth. Legolas listened to hear the history of his family rather than the details of Roman life, but Elaneth gave him very little information, even if he asked for it. Haldir found himself growing quite bored by this history lesson. Yes, it was interesting to know that the men of Gondor had not completely lost their culture, but he saw no use in hearing about their irrigation systems or their lavish parties.

"Welcome, my friends, to the Eternal City."

The city that lay before the Elves was steeped in antiquity. The roughened sides of mortar buildings, fissures in the pavement, and narrow streets each told a separate tale. The very bricks seemed to whisper stories of inhabitants long dead. The aura surrounding the city was unlike any they had felt-ever. Imladris, Lothlórien, and Eryn Lasgalen had stood for but a speck of time compared to the city of Rome. It was as Elaneth said: eternal.

"This place is familiar beyond recall," Legolas stated, looking around. "I feel as if I should know every uneven cobblestone by memory."

Elaneth nodded, as if she expected this. "A mudslide changed Mount Mindolluin into Palatine Hill."

"Mount Mindolluin? Then this is …," Legolas trailed off.

The implication astounded him. The restored kingdom of Gondor was exactly that: reborn from the wreckage of its predecessor. His eyes turned east, searching the horizon for the forest of Ithilien where he had once made his home, but he saw nothing but a looming mountain range.

"The construction of Rome began on the very ruins of Minas Tirith," Elaneth explained. "Those mountains are the Apennines. They run from Sicily all the way to the northern tip of Italy. The Elvish name for them is Ephel Dúath."

The Elves sucked in their breath. They had not anticipated such a thing. The Apennines looked similar to the mountains of Hungary and Austria: gray with sparse trees. The western border of Mordor had been cleansed of evil.

As if he read their thoughts, Sárëawë continued. "There are people who live now in the lands beyond. The Turks live in Mordor, and it is no longer a charred, evil place. It is stunningly beautiful, actually. The last time I was there, Istanbul was still called Constantinople. That was the heart of the Eastern Roman Empire for many centuries. It is a shame the Christians sacked it."

"What wicked men are the Christians?" Haldir asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

It was so typical for men to ruin what was most beautiful. He wondered if it was jealousy and greed that motivated them or if they simply could not tell what was aesthetically pleasing. He denied the last thought instantly. The city he walked through was proof that men could create beauty to equal an Elven city.

Elaneth shuddered at this question. She thanked Ilúvatar that no one around them spoke Sindarin. Asking that question in Italy was a perfect way to end up in a dank prison cell under Vatican City. She wondered how Sárëawë planned to explain the Christian religion, but she quickly realized that he would do no such thing. The Maia looked intently at Elaneth. She sighed, resigned to handling the volatile subject.

"The Christians are not wicked. They began as quite the opposite actually, but lost their pure leadership and were misguided for a time. A very long time. Rarely were their hearts as corrupt as their deeds."

"Do not deeds reveal what is in the heart?" Haldir countered.

Elaneth sighed. She found herself glancing around for any priests wandering along the road. She really did not want to broach this subject, especially not in Rome. It seemed that she had no choice, however, for the Elves had spotted one of hundreds of cathedrals in the city. The stained glass windows of the cathedral depicted Saint John the Baptist washing Jesus Christ in the Jordan River.

"Who are these men?" Elladan asked quietly.

The air around the holy place was still. Although the Elves did not know the purpose of the large building, they felt reverence emanating from the pedestrians who passed it. Some paused at the door for a moment to touch their forehead, stomach, and both shoulders with their fists.

"That is Saint John the Baptist and Jesus Christ of Nazareth."

"You said in Lothlórien that Alatar is not Jesus Christ."

Elaneth and Sárëawë gently steered the gawking Elves away from the cathedral. There would be plenty more to look at on their way through Rome. Elaneth considered how to approach this topic for a moment. The Elves would not take what she was about to say very well. Sárëawë gave a small, encouraging smile.

"No, he is not. The person who the people of Judea called Jesus was in reality called Almárwë, and he was a servant of Nienna. He remained in this world long after the other Maia departed. He taught love, pity, and understanding to those who would listen. His teachings are remembered and practiced to this day, but for his wisdom he suffered greatly and died. He is in Valinor, I believe."

Sárëawë nodded. "He resides with Nienna, unable to leave her halls for the pain he endured."

The Elves were troubled by this knowledge. They had not known of any Maia in Valinor called Almárwë, and it had never taken any Elf or Maia millennia to heal from a wound inflicted upon them in Middle-earth.

"Who would torture a Maia so greatly?" Elrohir asked, disgusted.

"They did not know he was Maia," Sárëawë said. The defense was half-hearted at best as Almárwë was a dear friend.

"Still, who would inflict such a grievous wound upon anyone?" Elladan asked.

"Especially one as gentle and loving as a servant of Nienna," his twin added.

Elaneth let out a shaky breath. She looked away from Haldir. She could not bear to defend Men any longer. Not when the Elves insisted on bringing up their darkest moments.

"The Romans."

"Men of Gondor!" they exclaimed, in near unison.

"It is a complicated matter," the elleth replied. "It was not entirely their doing, yet they carried out the act."

She prayed to Ilúvatar that they would not ask her how Almárwë died. She would have to flat out refuse to explain the process of crucifixion.

"How is dealing death to an innocent man complicated?" Haldir demanded.

Elaneth sighed, but shook her head. "We're almost at the hotel."

"Elaneth, explain this to us," the march warden pressed.

"The men who committed the deed are long dead!" Elaneth shouted. "According to Almárwë, the spirits of men go to Ilúvatar to be judged after death. Trust that Ilúvatar has dealt with the guilty and forget about their reasons. The minds of men are not for us to know."

"Nor is their fate," Sárëawë growled.

Elaneth snapped her jaw shut, suddenly aware of what she had said. The discussion ended abruptly with the Maia's firm demand.

"This is our hotel," Elaneth said.

The ellyn followed without a word. Their thoughts were bent on the Maia called Almárwë. Not once had they seen him abroad in Valinor. It was greatly disturbing to hear that the descendants of Gondor had tortured a Maia.

The hotel that Elaneth had led them to was the most lavish building they had seen yet. The Excelsior Hotel sat on the Via dei Condotti, the most famous street in Rome. The boutiques and restaurants were obliviously high end, but the elleth did not consider going to any other hotel because she was known well by the staff. There would be none of the trouble of checking in that Elaneth had encountered in Switzerland and Germany. Indeed, the moment she entered the door, the concierge greeted her by name.

"Buon giorno, Signora Elaine! Welcome back to Roma!"

While the concierge and Elaneth conversed, the Elves and the Maia looked around in awe. Sárëawë was not sure staying at the Excelsior was the best idea. It was a rather obvious choice for Elaneth, but the elleth seemed to have lost her wits since entering her home city.

From the outside, the building looked similar to the others surrounding it: large, made of white marble, with many windows. From the inside, however, it could be described as nothing less than a palace fit for Galadriel. From floor to ceiling blue and white fabric, glass, and lights entwined to grace the lobby with a sense of beauty akin to Caras Galadhon at sunset. The appearance of the hotel was so break-taking in detail and beauty that the Elves considered the possibility that the owner of the establishment was a Lórien Elf.

Within moments, they were led up the grand staircase by a bellboy. He seemed to know Elaneth also, and enquired about "Thatcher." The language Elaneth now used was identifiable as Italian. It was a fluid, musical language that was somewhat reminiscent of Sindarin. The other languages they could identify, English and German, sounded ghastly primitive when compared with Italian.

They were led to the Royalty Suite, usually reserved for heads of state such as Adolph Hitler and Hideki Tojo. Elaneth seemed welcomed, however, despite being an American. The Elves were suspicious about this, but Elaneth showed no concern. Her only misgiving was residing in a room that had been occupied by Hitler.

"Why do they trust you?" Sárëawë questioned.

"Why would they not?" Elaneth countered.

"You are American and they are Italian. It is simple enough. Your nations are fighting against each other."

Elaneth shrugged. "America fights the Japanese and Germans. So far, only the British have attacked Italian forces."

The Maia shook his head. "We should not have come here, Elaneth. I know it has been many years since you have visited your homeland, but no good can come of this."

"As I said, war was declared between Italy and America for purely alliance fulfillments. We will not be here long, anyhow."

"Why do you walk blindly into this, Idhriniel?" the Maia demanded.

The Elves stiffened at the tension in the room. Legolas and the sons of Elrond looked curiously at Sárëawë. They had not known Elaneth went by the name Idhriniel. Furthermore, the rift of judgment between the elleth and Maia did not bode well. Though their instincts were to trust Sárëawë first, Elaneth was their guide and, in some respects, their leader.

The elleth's pale eyes turned icy. Her jaw was set and her face frozen as she stared down the Maia.

"My name is Elaneth. We are here because I led us here."

Legolas blanched at the statement. If he had heard his father say that once, he had heard it a thousand times. No one ever dared to question Thranduil further. It appeared that Elaneth had inherited this trait from her grandfather. Sárëawë turned his eyes away from the Princess and retreated to a chair in the corner of the room. He picked up a folder from the coffee table.

"Perhaps we should order some dinner," he said.

The Maia's suggestion appealed to their stomachs and breaking the tension appealed to their nerves, but Elaneth turned and left the room silently. While Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir joined the Maia in the corner to look over the menu, Haldir slipped from the room.

Elaneth was easy to find within the confines of the suite. She stood at a large picture window in the adjacent room. The sun settled behind the Atlantic horizon, casting an orange glow over the elleth's pale face. She was ethereal and stunning, even in anger. Her beauty was dark, like her mood, yet Haldir felt himself inexplicably drawn to her. He did not think he could quell her anger or lighten her mood, but he wished for nothing more than a glimpse into her confusing mind. He wanted to know why she denied her title of Princess, but demanded the authority and fealty of a monarch. He could not ask her that and he knew without a doubt that she would not answer such a question.

"Why do you follow me?" Elaneth asked, without turning towards him.

Haldir paused for a moment, contemplating her question. The meaning was twofold, and he was unsure if it was wise to answer both parts of the questions.

"I follow you from room to room because my curiosity concerning you is insatiable. I follow you through Europe because you are an able leader."

The answer startled her, but she did not show it. She remained fixed at the window, gazing out at the churning waters of the Mediterranean.

"That can only be a compliment coming from Lothlórien's finest march warden," she answered, a touch of mirth playing on her lips.

"I do not claim to be the finest," he responded. "Only the highest ranking."

A short laugh broke Elaneth's stern demeanor. She turned finally from the window to Haldir, shaking her head slightly. Her lips parted to speak, but before she could say anything, Haldir spoke again.

"Yes, I know. I am a pompous ass."

She nodded. "And the only pompous ass I have ever known who can break my foul moods."

She motioned for him to join her at the window, and he complied. The air of brooding anger dispelled from around her, and her normal languid content returned.

The march warden brushed away her dark hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. He took a stolen moment to once again admire her perfect ears and brushed the tips of his fingers over the gentle points. Her eyes closed involuntarily and a shudder ran up her spine. He took full advantage of the moment and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss. He crushed her slender form against him, and Elaneth entangled her fingers in his silky hair. The moment was intense and cherished, as all their stolen moments had been. Like all of those meetings, this was also fleeting. They parted breathlessly, hovering very close to each another with eyes closed in a final sensual moment.

"This is foolish," Elaneth breathed.

"Aye," Haldir confirmed. "We are in the middle of a perilous quest in which we seek to destroy two Maiar. There is not time for this."

Despite his words, he did not release Elaneth from his grasp, and his fingers toyed mercilessly with her sensitive ears. Their mouths met again in another searing kiss.

"We should return to the common room," Haldir continued.

Elaneth nodded. "Before the others seek us out."

They remained frozen in the moment, dismissing their own advice. Their eyes were locked to each other's lips in a teasing game of seduction.

"What have you done to my restraint?" Haldir whispered, leaning into Elaneth.

"Would you believe that I put a spell on you?" the elleth asked, huskily.

An obvious clearing of the throat ripped them from their enticing shared reverie. They glided away from each other, untangling limbs and unconsciously smoothing their clothing as they turned to face Legolas. The wood-elf was unimpressed by the scene he had trespassed upon. If he had not heard every word the couple shared, he would have assumed they had no care for the impropriety and inconvenience of their relationship. Having heard, however, he had not expected to see his old friend and niece pawing each other.

"Our dinner has arrived," Legolas said, coolly.

Elaneth nodded and moved to enter the common room once more. She glanced over her shoulder at the other.

"You'll love Italian food."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Not so bad, eh? Or was it? Let me know …

**A note about the geography of Middle-Earth: **Tolkien says, "The action of the story takes place in the North-west of 'Middle-earth', equivalent in latitude to the coastlands of Europe and the north shores of the Mediterranean. ... If Hobbiton and Rivendell are taken (as intended) to be at about the latitude of Oxford, then Minas Tirith, 600 miles south, is at about the latitude of Florence. The Mouths of Anduin and the ancient city of Pelargir are at about the latitude of ancient Troy." Letters, 375-376 (#294)

Thanks to Ellisk for the research.

So, I obviously moved Minas Tirith from Florence to Rome. I don't think that's too much of a stretch. From what I know, ancient Troy was across the Aegean Sea from Greece. (And no, I am not using the map shown at the beginning of "Troy." I am a history major, thank you. I have textbooks). That puts it somewhere around the same latitude as Turkey.


	22. Confrontation

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"**Confrontation"**

Haldir sighed softly as Legolas appeared in the small antechamber. He supposed there was no way to avoid the prince. As Elaneth's kin, Legolas was duty bound to take him to task for exercising such liberties with the elleth. Legolas had kindly waited until the others retired for the night, and for that Haldir was grateful. If it were his charge to confront a prospective lover of his female relatives, he was not sure he would be as discreet.

"It is doomed," Legolas said flatly.

The march warden was surprised to hear such a pessimistic comment from Legolas. He arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. He sensed that Legolas had more to say.

"I have come to realize that Elaneth is not simply a member of the royal family. She is my father's protégé. If he could have molded his ideal child from clay, he would have created Elaneth. She has both the best and worst of my father in her blood. Not least among those qualities is loyalty. She will not forsake the Silvan Elves."

"Then it is a good thing I am Silvan," Haldir replied.

His smart comment served only to deepen Legolas's frown.

"She will not leave Arda, Haldir. Elaneth will not go with us to Valinor. Whatever there is between you will only produce heartache."

Hours later Haldir stood on the balcony, listening to the black waves of the sea crash against the shore. The coastline wasn't visible from the hotel, but the sounds and smell of the sea brought back fond memories of Valinor. Overhead, the full moon floated serenely in the heavens and the stars twinkled brightly. He sighed, turning briefly to look into the hotel suite.

The conversation with Legolas had taken a less than favorable turn. He closed his eyes and focused on the warm breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean.

It did not clear his thoughts, however, for he was focused on Elaneth. She did nothing but confuse and torment him with her unfathomable mind and striking beauty. She was a maze of contradictions, and every twist and turn led to the same end point: another secret in her past. Yet Legolas and the sons of Elrond seemed oblivious to her swings in opinion and personality. The march warden guessed he was close to discovering her secret.

But one question plagued him constantly: did he truly want to know?

What could make an elleth fear to show her ears, but inspire her to immerse herself in the world of men? What could send her into fevered dreams for a day and a half but elevate her status among the wood-elves? What could cause her such fear but produce such courage? The more he contemplated the idea, the less he wanted to know. But that was selfish, and he knew it. Did Elaneth carry these secrets alone? If she was searching for a soul to confide in, wasn't it wrong to deny her that comfort? After all, hearing the tale could not be as bad as experiencing it.

He sighed deeply. As usual, he had reached no conclusions. Elaneth was a mystery, and she would probably remain one until she decided to break her code of silence. He was glad he was a patient Elf; Elrohir would have already driven her to fury by begging for answers. Haldir felt that the time when Elaneth would share something monumental with him was drawing nearer. That thought worried him.

The impact of this premonition hit him hard. An elleth as secretive and haunted as Elaneth would not easily share her burdens. She had chosen to become close to him. Perhaps it was only a test, to see if he could be trusted, but Haldir thought that they had transcended petty doubts towards each other. After the night at the Fuehrer's Bunker, they had reached a silent agreement. They were friends despite their differences. There was only one thing Haldir knew of that could sweep away philosophical clashes and break down the walls erected to protect oneself.

The idea caused a shudder of indecision to ripple down Haldir's spine. Love was not a word on which he wanted to dwell. If Elaneth felt that particular emotion, that was her business. His inexplicable, undeniable, and intense bond with the elleth was something else entirely. It had to be. Haldir, march warden of Lothlórien, did not trifle in such matters. Not even for an intelligent, cunning, and courageous elleth unlike any he had met before.

Yes, that was it. It was … something else.

* * *

The sun rose swiftly over the Apennines Mountains, bathing Rome with crisp, clear light. Even in the moments after dawn, it became clear that this would be a glorious July day.

The Via dei Condotti bustled with tourists and shopkeepers already. Though Italy was deadlocked in the Balkan war, the civilians and tourists went about their routines as normal. The peninsula was tucked safely away from all signs of war except the propaganda. To the south, the North African war disturbed daily life, but Rome was far from the fighting. The denizens of Rome considered themselves safe, for they lived in the Eternal City. An air of antiquity enveloped their city and brought them peace. Even in its ancient days, few warmongers had ever sacked the city. Now, with Vatican City in the heart of Rome, even fewer enemies would dare to approach Rome.

The peace the citizens felt was unfounded. The Elves knew this. The malevolent spirit in Rome paled in comparison to the vicious Maia in Berlin, but it was by no means a safe haven. Their presence was known.

"Good morning," Elaneth said, entering the common room.

A light smile was on her face. She did not yet seemed troubled that Mussolini's men knew they were in Rome.

"Good morning, my Lady," Elrohir answered, a smile on his lips, "I trust you slept well beneath a familiar sky."

"Yes, I did. I love Rome. I would show you every alley and footpath if we had time to delay. Alas, we do not."

"We regret that also," Elladan answered. "For a brief span of years, Minas Tirith was our second home. I would love to see what remains of Aragorn's city."

"But we have a higher purpose in being here," Sárëawë announced.

The Maia eased gracefully into a chair around the mahogany dining table. A young man followed after him, wheeling a tray stocked with food. He left promptly, pausing only to accept the tip Sárëawë slid into his palm.

"True," Elaneth answered. "Which we should begin carrying out tonight."

Legolas and Haldir entered the dining room a moment later, from opposite doors. As Haldir slid into the chair beside Elaneth, Legolas cast him a warning glare. Elaneth did not miss it. She wondered what could have transpired during the night. She studied each of the Elves carefully, but neither gave her any indication of the source of tension.

"What is the plan, Elaneth?"

The elleth started at the sound of her name. Sárëawë watched her with his eyebrows raised, waiting patiently for her response.

"The same as in Berlin. We leave at sunset and enter the fascist headquarters. We may collect some surprising information there, as we did at the Reich Chancellery."

"And what of Pallando?" Elladan asked.

"We will deal with him in due time. I think it best to gather information about him and the layout of the Palazzo Venezia tonight."

"That is fascist headquarters?"

Elaneth nodded to Legolas. "It should be much easier to infiltrate as well. It is not as isolated as the Führerbau. Palazzo Venezia is in the heart of Rome, right in the town square. It was a museum before Mussolini took power, and that will cause some problems as well as advantages."

Sárëawë nodded, catching her meaning. "A basement entrance."

The elleth nodded along with the Maia. "I doubt the fascists care to guard the artifacts stowed in the basement."

The companions had another twelve hours to wait for the sunset. The slow passing of the hours reminded the warriors of a battle. Most of the battle was spent staring at the enemy camp only a few hundred feet away. The usually enemy of the Elves, the Orcs, fought only at nighttime. During the day it was too dangerous to venture out of the army camp and too boring to stay within in it. The breaks between fighting were accompanied by tension, exhaustion, and anxiety. The calm before the storm was usually the most deadly part of the war.

After a few hours of listening to the radio and playing numerous games of _Telien-rind_, Elaneth rose from her place on the sofa and dialed the front desk. She spoke briefly with the concierge before turning to the Elves.

"Steel yourselves, boys," she teased, "They're bringing scissors."

Sárëawë stifled his laughter. The Elves protested, but to no avail. Elaneth had not failed to notice how quickly their hair grew. It was once again too long to avoid detection.

"I prefer your hair long as well, but it is not safe," she argued. "Even more so because you all insist on wearing warrior braids. I promise you, there is not one single modern man who would ever consider braiding his hair."

The bellhop arrived a moment later with the items Elaneth requested. She had not dared ask for hair dye. It would be far too obvious that she planned to disguise their appearance. Elladan's hair had grown out to a ridiculous length, making the top half of his hair black and the lower portion light brown. As a result, he would suffer from the shortest haircut.

The second item Elaneth had asked for was a newspaper. The headlines would be undoubtedly skewed by the fascist propaganda, but some information was better than none. As a rule of thumb, the news was true, but exaggerated. She laid the paper aside while she gave each Elf a haircut.

Sárëawë, who knew Latin but not much Italian, read the paper while Elaneth cut the Elves' hair. The languages were similar enough that he could gain an understanding of the story, but he would still need Elaneth to translate.

"Where is Midway Island?" the Maia asked.

"In the Pacific," Elaneth said, turning to him, "What does it say?"

"Something about a US victory at Midway Island. It sounds nonchalant, like this happened awhile ago."

Elaneth's eyebrows rose slightly. She had heard nothing about a battle at Midway before leaving England, although that was in early April, three months before.

"That is good to know. If I didn't think the phones were tapped, I would call Thranduil."

The Maia nodded. "Yes, that would be unwise. Did you know American troops were in North Africa?"

Again, the elleth was surprised. "Finally. Where are they fighting?"

The Maia shrugged. "I don't understand it all. Near the Egyptian border, I think."

"The Germans want the Suez Canal," Elaneth chuckled. "Churchill will make them pay for that lofty goal. No doubt he convinced Roosevelt to send American troops there."

The Maia grunted, barely understanding what she meant. The Elves were at a greater loss for understanding. They knew the names Churchill and Roosevelt, but little else. She chattered on for a few more minutes about strategy and consequences of victory, but trailed off when she realized no one understood her.

"You are a strange elleth, Elaneth," Haldir chuckled.

"Why do you say that?" she asked. "And be careful. I have the scissors."

She wrapped a sheet around Haldir's neck to keep the hair off his cotton suit. The Elf was not happy about receiving a hair cut, but he was less agitated than the first time.

"As you know, Elven society is egalitarian, and ellyth can do whatever they wish. However, very few are pleased with traveling abroad, military strategy, and diplomacy. I have only ever known one other elleth with a liking for such things."

"Who is that?"

"Lady Galadriel," the march warden answered.

Elaneth could not help but smile. "Thranduil would have your head if he heard you comparing his granddaughter to the Lady of Light."

"Forgive me, my Lady. I meant no offense."

"I took none."

"Lady Éowyn," Legolas added, with a wistful sigh. "She had a hand in planning the scouting excursions in Ithilien."

"You are comparing Elaneth to a mortal?" Haldir questioned, with a sneer in his voice.

"I take no offense to that either, Haldir. The Lady Éowyn was not any mere mortal. She defeated the Witch-king of Angmar." She sighed deeply. "It is a pity that she, her brother, and Théoden King are the only bright spots in Rohirric history."

Legolas's brow furrowed. "Surely there were great Kings of the Mark to rival even Eorl after I departed from Gondor."

Elaneth shook her head sadly. "No, Éomer was the last great King of the Mark."

Even as Elaneth spoke, the sun began its descent below the horizon. If Legolas planned to ask more questions, he did not have the time. The sons of Elrond entered the room with grave faces.

"We leave in an hour."

As the last rays of the sun disappeared, the Elves and Maia departed the Excelsior Hotel. The stars overhead were veiled by the artificial light of the city, but the star of Eärendil soared proudly through the sky.

The Elves slipped through the alleys and byways of downtown Rome, guided expertly by Elaneth. She had not used these paths for over a thousand years, but her memory was clear; the paths of her home city never left her mind. There were quite a few people out on the streets, but the Black Shirts patrolled their areas thoroughly. The curfew was not so strict in Italy as in Germany. Italian customs and weather caused a large portion of daily life to be carried out after sunset.

From the darkest shadow, the Elves examined the Palazzo Venezia. The hub of Rome was a square, paved with white cobblestones. On each side of the stone pathway were lush lawns with many trees, and a marble statue of St. Paul stood in the center of the square. The fascist party headquarters sat on the west end of the Roman town square. While most of the buildings were crafted of white marble, the Museo Venezia was sandstone. It was a medieval building, rather than Roman, having been built in the 14th century when knowledge of architecture was limited.

"The door to the basement will be in the back," Elaneth said, looking over her shoulder.

The Elves and Maia slipped from their hiding spots, following Elaneth. She led them a block to the left of the Palazzo Venezia, and then through a dark alley. They emerged into the Piazza once more, this time nearing the watchtower on the museum. Haldir noticed the basement door at once. It apparently had not been updated and repaired as the rest of the building had been, for it was a wooden door with black iron hinges. The march warden shook his head. No wonder humans had forgotten their past; they obviously cared very little about these artifacts.

"There," he said, pointing to the door.

The door's state of disrepair seemed to upset Elaneth as well. Her brow furrowed and a sad looked entered her eyes. No doubt some Roman artifacts lay dusty and forgotten in the cellar.

The problem of entering the building became at once obvious. The door was not recessed into the wall like Elaneth and Sárëawë assumed it would be. It was even with the southern face of the building, and unfortunately, directly under a spotlight. However, there appeared to be no security around the door, as the guards congregated at the front entrance and Mussolini's private entrance on the northern wall.

"We run two at a time," Elladan ordered. "Cover the runners from here and just inside the door."

Elaneth and Haldir were the first to cross the distance. Because Elaneth was living among men when the building was constructed, she was assumed to understand any strange mechanics the door possessed.

With a silent nod to each other, the two Elves left the cover of the shadows. There was no one around the basement entrance and nothing to shelter them from enemy eyes. The orange glow of the streetlamp left them terribly exposed. They reached the door unseen, but the light still shone brightly on them.

Much to Elaneth's surprise, the original style of cross beam still held the door firmly in place. It was not the original lock, of course, for that would have rusted long ago. It was newly made, with the strongest metal possible, for when she pulled the door the hinges did not creak. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make the door look authentic.

"Does Elrohir have an opening spell?" Elaneth questioned.

The march warden nodded, and signaled for Elrohir to join them. He quickly produced the parchment given to him by Mithrandir. Legolas, Elladan, and Sárëawë grew anxious the longer their friends stood in the spotlight. At any moment, a patrolling soldier could stumble by and catch them attempting to break into the fascist headquarters.

Elrohir chanted the words softly, but quickly. The lock did not budge. He passed the paper to Haldir, who also chanted the spell. Again, the lock stayed tight.

"All right, Plan B," Elaneth said.

"And what is Plan B?" Elrohir asked.

"There is a way to break the lock from the outside. You two have to lift the door up, out of its hinges, and then I will reach inside and lift the beam."

Haldir and Elrohir set to work immediately. Being Elves, they possessed the strength of two men, but it was still a struggle to lift the door because of its awkward shape and thickness. When the door hovered over the iron hinges, Elaneth slid two hands into the small open and grasped the wooden blockade. With a sturdy thrust of her wrists, she dislodged the cross beam. The heavy wooden block bounced off the cement floor and crashed down a long flight of stairs. The sound of clashing metal and breaking glass ended the cacophony of echoes.

The Elves cringed at all the noise, especially at the breaking artifacts. Any human even relatively close to the basement would have heard the racket.

"Well, that was the worst case scenario," Elaneth muttered.

The ellyn eased the door back onto its hinges, and it swung open easily. The entrance was lit by the streetlamp, but beyond the small foyer, the stairs descended into darkness. Even the superior eyesight of the Elves could not pierce the blackness of the basement. To their further dismay, faint sounds of footsteps echoed through the basement.

"Let us deal with them quickly," Haldir said.

As he entered the foyer, he unsheathed his sword. Elrohir motioned for the others to join them, but to keep a vigil at the door. He and Elaneth followed Haldir. Elrohir drew his sword, but Elaneth strung her bow and drew an arrow.

"Five of them," Haldir whispered.

It was the last they spoke before disappearing into the pitch black of the museum basement.


	23. Well Timed Eavesdropping

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"**Well-Timed Eavesdropping"**

The men whispered to each other in hushed voices, yet to Elven ears, the soldiers' whispers sounded like yelled orders echoing off the basement walls. The men moved clumsily around the artifacts stacked in the basement holding only one electric torch that lit the way perfectly for the Elves with superior eyesight, but did little for the men.

Haldir, Elrohir, and Elaneth slipped from the stairwell and into the first chamber of the basement. Wooden shelves covered with sheets lined the walls, apparently stacked with artifacts. The cloth had turned brown over the years from the dust and mold in the basement, and a thick layer of dust covered the floor, making the already soft footfalls of the Elves completely silent.

Each footstep of the heavy-booted soldiers rang loudly against the walls, alerting the Elves to their position. Elaneth also understood every comment or command the men whispered and planned a simple counteroffensive. Silently, she directed Haldir and Elrohir to stand on opposite sides of the chamber entrance. Elaneth stayed further away, an arrow cocked and aimed.

The opening to the room was nothing more than a narrow rectangle in the wall. There was no frame or jamb, only the rough edge of the mortar. The Italians were forced to enter one at a time, for the opening was little more than a span of their shoulders. The Elves waited silently, hidden in the shadows. When the last man entered the chamber, they pounced.

The bearer of the electric torch was the first to go down. With a swift, well aimed blow, Elrohir knocked the man unconscious with the hilt of his sword. The scuffle that followed was quick and occurred in total darkness. Four consecutive men fell to the ground. They would wake up with headaches, but nothing more.

"Get rope from Sárëawë," Haldir directed.

There was no need to summon the Maia. Elladan, Legolas, and Sárëawë stood at the top of the stairs and had heard everything clearly. The Maia entered the chamber a moment later, holding out a rope of hithlain. He was the only one of them to carry a pack, for he carried no bow and quiver. With the sharp edge of his knife, Legolas cut ten sections of rope. They bound the men hand and foot and would command the rope to release them on their way out of the building.

When that task was complete, the companions turned to the adjacent chamber. They guessed from the pattern of the soldiers' footsteps that there were three separate rooms in the basement, each the same size with a narrow entrance. Their guess was correct. At the far side of the third chamber, they came to another staircase, much like the first. It was carved unevenly from the stone wall and turned halfway up.

"There is a sentinel at the door," Legolas whispered.

The wood-elf climbed the stairs first, followed by Elladan. They dealt with the door guard in the same way that his compatriots had been ambushed. Sárëawë and Elrohir bound him with the rope and then sat him inside the basement door.

If the Elves were impressed by the Reich Chancellery in Berlin, they were awed by the Palazzo Venezia. Some people had claimed that fascism was a movement based on style, not substance. Elaneth believed the critics now. The museum was the epitome of Italian richness. The floors were Italian marble scattered with squares of rich maroon carpet upon which statues and display cases stood. The walls were the color of muslin, highly glossed to make the wallpaper look like candy-coating. The moulding was a design borrowed from Victorian Britain, but etched with gold in intricate designs of the Italian Renaissance. The place was sparely furnished, but the displayed items were solid mahogany, varnished to glossy perfection. Rows of chairs and sofas, upholstered with the finest black Italian leather, lined most every wall, as if the rooms were used for informal conferences or parties. The whole museum looked so exquisite that it was hard to image an evil wizard dwelling within its walls.

They ascended the main staircase with Elaneth leading. Unlike in the Reich Chancellery, Elaneth had some idea where Mussolini's office was located. He often made speeches from the balcony of the Palazzo Venezia. She guessed his office was somewhere close by it, if not the exact room containing the balcony.

At the landing of the third floor, Legolas paused and turned towards the northern wing of the building while the others waited expectantly. Within moments, the wood-elf identified where the sound was coming from.

"People are speaking in Italian," he said to Elaneth.

She nodded and followed Legolas towards the voices. It was not long before the others picked up on the sounds. It was a wonder they had not heard before, because the men were making no attempt to keep their voices low. The room they occupied was far away from the stairs, however, almost on the opposite side of the museum. As they neared, the men's words became clearer and their voices louder.

A tiny smile lifted the corners of Elaneth's lips.

"Mussolini is not here," she whispered. "They're talking about him."

Two of the men spoke in baritone voices, but the third man's timbre was low and rumbling like distant thunder. He continually interrupted the other two, demanding their attention. Each time he raised his commanding voice in anger, the room became painfully silent.

Elaneth listened intently. She could scarcely believe what she heard, yet these men could not be staging the conversation for her sake. Pallando was nowhere nearby, and therefore these men had no magical sense to feel their approach. She dared not translate so close to the room, even in a whisper. With a swift hand motion she signaled that it was time to depart, as the men were ending their conversation rapidly.

"I have all the information we need," she announced at the stairwell. "There is no need to explore further."

"What did those men say?" Sárëawë asked. "I caught a few words, but I must have heard wrong."

Elaneth shook her head. "I doubt it, my friend. They were discussing the Pope. They say he may withdrawal his support from Mussolini's regime if Il Duce does not agree to change some things."

"What does that mean?" Haldir asked. Elaneth's habit of rattling on about complicated European political situations without offering comprehensive explanations to the Elves was rather annoying.

"In short," she continued, a small laugh escaping her throat, "it means Pallando will be deposed. There is no way to control Italy without the Pope's approval."

"But can men overthrow a Maia?" Elladan asked incredulously.

"Perhaps," Sárëawë answered. "It would be by the military. Even a wizard fears loosing his body. Remember, the Istari are bound to their bodies in a way other Maiar are not. If an Istar dies, his spirit flies to Mandos. But now there is a spell cast upon the Barrier. Pallando would be doomed to roam the world as a formless spirit. That may motivate a wizard to abdicate or call on an ally for help."

"Alatar," Legolas stated.

The Maia nodded. "So it is entirely possible for the Italian military to overthrow Pallando, and that would incur the wrath of the Germans. Alatar and Pallando have ever been the best of friends. Still, it may happen, and I think it will if the Pope withdraws his support."

"Haldir was right," Elaneth said, turning to the march warden. "We should focus our attention on Alatar. If we can defeat him, or even weaken him, he cannot help Pallando when he calls for aid."

The Elves nodded along with Elaneth. With the plan decided, they hurried down the stairs. Although the Palazzo Venezia was beautiful, it was dangerous. They ducked into the basement stairwell quickly and hurried through the chambers. The five soldiers still lay unconscious in the third chamber.

"Release them," Elrohir said.

The hithlain knots did not untie. The Elves of Valinor looked curiously at the rope. Never before had Elven rope failed to hearken to its master's voice. Sárëawë repeated the phrase. Being the true owner of the rope, he expected it would obey him, but it did not. Elaneth then moved to untie the knots manually, and only then did it occur to the Elves that they could do this. The Maia tucked the cords of rope into his pack, eyeing them suspiciously as he did so.

"There is no more magic in the world except what a wizard can conjure," Elaneth said.

That simple phrase startled the Elves. Elves were magical without any spells or incantations. To think that something so innate to their nature no longer existed was a frightening prospect. After thinking about Elaneth's words for a moment, a though came to Haldir. Elaneth had not once chanted any of Mithrandir's spells, although she had held the parchment at least twice. She had never even tried.

The elleth led them from the basement and into a side alley. She retraced their steps, leading them back to Via dei Condotti. The Excelsior Hotel was majestic at night. Light danced behind the blue curtains of the individual suites, and the prisms of the many chandeliers twinkled. The Elves entered the lobby relieved to have escaped the Palazzo Venezia undetected.

Elaneth smiled warmly at the concierge, but Paolo did not return the gesture. He turned away, looking straight across the lobby towards the check-in desk. The elleth studied the man's posture closely. Paolo was a quintessential Italian: friendly, outgoing, and passionate. Now he stood rigidly behind his desk, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Paolo?" she asked.

He man did not reply. He pushed a brochure towards Elaneth. It was an advertisement for an excursion to see the Tower of Pisa. She looked at the concierge curiously, but did not take the pamphlet. Paolo shifted stiffly. With two fingers, he unfolded the pages. As Elaneth read the words, her eyes widened. A surge of adrenaline swirled her vision and sent a wave of dizziness to her head.

"Grazie, Paolo. If you ever need any favor at all, Thatcher and I will see it done."

She turned abruptly to the Elves and Maia. They watched her exchange with the man curiously. Since their arrival, the concierge had done nothing but laugh and joke with them in Italian. He had seemed to know they did not understand the language, but he had conversed with them as if they were old friends anyhow.

"We must leave immediately," the elleth said.

Her voice was strained and grave. Without a second look towards the grand staircase, Elaneth moved for the door. The Elves and Maia followed swiftly. They saw nothing as they peered over their shoulders except for Paolo with fear in his eyes. That was enough to cause them to hurry out the front door behind Elaneth.

The elleth was uncharacteristically worried. Her gait was faster than normal, and her eyes were focused straight ahead. The large, white stone train station was directly in her line of vision.

"Elaneth, what happened?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth held up the brochure for the Tower of Pisa. The tilting tower intrigued the Elf, but he did not image it was the tower that caused her to worry. Although it was leaning quite a bit. Haldir forced the nonsensical idea from his head.

"Paolo gave this to me. He wrote warnings on the inside cover. Twenty minutes ago, two soldiers asked the receptionist for our room number. Then they demanded she give them a key. Which she did, and I do not blame her. They told the hotel manager to have the back entrance unlocked all night. Paolo said two more soldiers already went up to our room, however. He was not sure if they were still up there. Sárëawë, you wouldn't happen to have money in that pack would you?"

The Maia nodded grimly. "I have mostly gold coins, but I have a few Hungarian Forints."

"Enough?"

He nodded once. The elleth sighed deeply, but forced an appreciative smile at the Maia.

"So, we're going to Germany?" Elladan asked.

Elaneth signed. "No. We're going to Milan."

"Why not Germany?" Elrohir asked.

"Our passports are in the hotel room," Sárëawë began. "Along with all of Elaneth's money, the gold you brought from Valinor, our modern clothes, and our food."

Silence settled upon the group as they approached the train station. Elladan and Elrohir wanted to return for their supplies, but Elaneth and Sárëawë would not even consider this idea.

"We should return," Legolas stated. "We must have adequate supplies. And as Elaneth says, we must fit in. We cannot do so looking like Middle-earth Rangers."

The Maia shook his head. "Walking away unharmed after machine guns are fired as you did in Germany is pure luck. It won't happen again."

The Maia shuddered at his own words. A thought tickled his mind, something which had not happen for many, many years. It was an occurrence that happened unbidden to Maiar spirits. Olórin and Eönwë experienced such things constantly, but Sárëawë did not. It was an uncommon event in his long life, and he did not like it one bit.

He had just uttered a prophesy.

A knot of fear nestled in his stomach. Never before had he been solely responsible for carrying out the work of the Valar. When he entered the world of men, he usually did so with Olórin. While Sárëawë did not doubt that Ilúvatar had set him in the path of the Elves for a reason, he could not begin to contemplate how to keep these Elves safe from the wars of men. Olórin would know, but Sárëawë did not. Guilt set upon him as he realized he could not stop this prophecy from being fulfilled.

One of these Elves would feel the unforgiving bite of a bullet.


	24. Fright and Flight

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

"**Fright and Flight"**

The train ride to Milan was tense and quiet. The fascists placed patrolling soldiers on the train, just as they had done under the Nazi regime in Berlin. The Italian guards were not as severe as the Germans, partly because the train was not leaving the country, and the atmosphere remained light despite the soldiers' presence. It was a fairly short ride, and the guards questioned no one about their intentions in Milan; the fashion capital of the world attracted tourists, shoppers, entrepreneurs, and historians. They seemed as happy to travel into Northern Italy as every passenger on the train.

The Elves and Maia remained almost silent in their seats, however. The money Sárëawë carried in his pack was Hungarian forints left over from his extended stay in Hungary. The exchange rate between forints and lires was low, resulting in the Elves' current seats; unlike their other train rides, they did not have a cabin separate from the other passengers.

Elaneth spent the trip gazing out the window. Her light eyes were troubled, and her brow was knitted in concentration. Rome was behind her, and she doubted she would ever see her beloved city again. With each passing day the quest became harder and more dangerous, and without the proper resources, she saw no chance of success. Sárëawë had agreed that they should leave Rome immediately, but Elaneth now questioned her own decision.

Their only supplies were in Sárëawë's pack. He carried rope, a tinder box, some overly ripe apples, and a few Italian lires, none of which would be helpful in crossing the border into Switzerland. From there, Elaneth could organize her resources; she could call Thranduil, withdraw money from his Swiss bank account, and buy supplies.

The elleth glanced down at her clothes, and then at her friends'. They looked like half-crazed Shakespearean actors preparing to leap to their feet and perform "As You Like It" at any moment. A sad smile threatened to break across her lips-at least she had thought up an excuse for the way they were dressed. She wondered if their Elven-cloaks still worked their magic. She doubted it, but hoped the enchanted material covered their weapons sufficiently.

At the depot, Sárëawë led them off the train. As he passed by the guards, he nodded to each of them. They returned the gesture and let the Elves pass by without incident. Elaneth's eyes betrayed her surprise, but the Maia only smiled at her, unwilling to tell his secret.

The city of Milan was beautiful, though not as impressive as Rome. In truth, the Elves noticed very little of the city because Elaneth led them swiftly through the streets. Sárëawë was by her side, talking softly to her. The ellyn recognized the language as Latin, which they had heard Elaneth use only once before. It was not wholly divorced from Italian and was spoken with the same accent and inflection, but the Elves understood none of the words.

"Why do you not speak in Sindarin?" Elladan asked.

The elleth and Maia turned to him, both with slack jaws and wide eyes. They glanced at each other twice and stuttered a few times before finding an acceptable answer.

"It is our habit to speak Latin with one another," Sárëawë lied. "We were formulating a plan."

The Elves did not believe him, and they were stunned by his lie. It was not like a servant of the Valar to speak an untruth.

"Should we not be part of this plan?" Legolas asked sternly.

Again, the elleth and Maia groped unsuccessfully for an answer.

"We have decided on a course of action," Elaneth said. "Stay close to us."

The group wandered on for several miles. Elaneth and Sárëawë talked to one another in Latin continually, glancing back occasionally at the Elves.

"What do you suppose Elaneth is plotting?" Haldir asked in Weston.

Elaneth turned to glare at him, and a smirk spread across his face. Elaneth, speaker of so many languages, had never heard Weston before. She abruptly resumed her Latin conversation with Sárëawë.

"I do not know, but I wish she would tell us," Legolas answered crossly.

The elleth took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. She resisted the urge to look at Haldir. She knew she deserved to be left out of the conversation, but it was obviously about her. At least she and Sárëawë had had enough decency not to name any of the Elves while they spoke.

"It is telling that you do not include me in your accusations, Haldir," Sárëawë said, also in Weston. "It seems not understanding Elaneth effects you more than not understanding me."

The Elf's jaw slackened. He searched for a rebuttal, but nothing suitable came to him, so he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin into the air.

"Arrogance as a combatant against everything, Haldir?" Sárëawë asked. "Even affection?"

The Elf did not have a chance to answer, but he would have many long days to contemplate the Maia's question. At that moment, Elaneth called for Sárëawë. They stopped in front of a small stucco building with black lettering on the side. On the opposite side of the street sat a long row of automobiles parked next to the sidewalk. The elleth and Maia walked swiftly down the row of cars, finally stopping several hundred feet later.

"Get in," Sárëawë directed, looking at the Elves.

"We're stealing this vehicle?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"That's why I didn't want to tell you," Elaneth announced, jerking open the car door.

"Get in," the Maia repeated firmly.

The fierceness in the Maia's voice motivated the Elves to cram themselves into the backseat even though the car was significantly smaller than American cars and very uncomfortable. Sárëawë sat in the passenger's seat and Elaneth in the driver's seat. She grabbed the keys dangling from the ignition and fired the car's engine.

"The gas tank is full!" she announced, turning to the Maia.

He smiled anxiously. "Good. Now go."

The car lurched away from the curb, and the Elves scrambled to hold onto something. Legolas and Elrohir, being crammed into the middle, cursed under their breaths at the sudden movement. Legolas and Elrohir were essentially sitting on Haldir and Elladan's laps, and that was not a pleasant experience for any of them.

"Can we ask where you're taking us?" Elladan asked.

"And how far it will be?" Haldir added.

"Lugano, Switzerland," Elaneth said. "It is about two hours away."

The groan of protest from the backseat brought a smile to both the elleth and Maia.

"I would trade seats with you," Sárëawë said, small laughs breaking his words. "But Elaneth will need me to help read the signs."

"I thought you didn't know Italian," Haldir grumbled under his breath, elbowing Legolas to make him stop squirming.

Within the hour they had arrived in the town of Como, the last city they would pass through before reaching the border. Elaneth drove straight through it, not trusting herself to stop; if she did, she might never gain the courage to continue. Sárëawë reached across the gearshift and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"The Swiss-Italian border is fast approaching," the elleth said, looking in the rearview mirror. "We must pass into Switzerland … whatever the cost."

The Elves sobered quickly, no longer fidgeting and fighting for space. Her meaning was clear. Each Elf touched the hilt of a sword or knife hidden under their cloaks.

In the distance, a magnificent mountain range rose from the rolling hills of Northern Italy. To the east, west, and north, a single chain of mountains formed the natural boundary between Italy and Switzerland. Even in mid-summer, snow capped the mountaintops, and the tree line reached only half-way up the mountains.

"Those are the Swiss Alps," Sárëawë said. "We are very close now."

Only moments passed before the customs station appeared. Elaneth pulled the car into line behind two other cars. The guard shack was unimpressive, only a small wooden building with one large window. A single wooden pole, painted with red and white stripes, blocked the path to Switzerland.

The car directly in front of them rolled over the border, and Elaneth pulled up. She glanced to Sárëawë once, and he nodded his encouragement for their plan. Two guards manned the station, one Swiss and the other Italian. The man who approached the car was short and lean, with jet black hair, and was dressed in a gray Swiss military uniform. Elaneth nearly cried for joy at this sudden swing in their luck.

"Saluti," he greeted, bending down to peer in the window.

He cast the four ellyn crammed into the backseat a humorous look. He turned back to Elaneth, attempting to hide his mirth.

"Where is your final destination?" His Italian was accented, a comfortable Swiss dialect flavoring his words.

"Zurich."

He nodded. "Papers, please."

Elaneth swallowed hard, but paused for a moment to steel her nerves. The Italian guard lingered only feet away, and he would hear her American accent seeping into her Italian. She only hoped he trusted his Swiss colleague.

"We do not have passports, Signore. They were stolen in Rome, but we do have proof that we are who we say we are."

The guard nodded. "A birth certificate will satisfy me."

"Actually, Signore, we thought this would satisfy you better."

Elaneth dropped a single gold coin into his palm. The soldier regarded it for a moment, and then he lifted it to his mouth and bit down. Satisfied that it was real, he returned his attention to Elaneth.

"You are brave in attempting to bribe passage into Switzerland. We are a neutral country, and you are American."

"In my experience, the Swiss are lax with their neutrality."

The guard's eyebrows rose, and an amused smiled spread across his lips slowly.

"My Italian friend would be interested to know you have a political reason to escape his country."

Elaneth shook her head. "No, Signore. I only have a financial reason to enter Switzerland."

The soldier leaned in closer, his voice lower. "You have more of this in a Swiss bank?"

The elleth nodded. "I have access to an American Senator's bank account. You know what a Senator is?"

"Yes, I have heard the word. They pass laws that only they are allowed to break. That is correct? I want one thousand American dollars. Per person."

"Done."

"I ride with you."

The soldier spoke briefly with the Italian guard. They argued for a moment, the Italian demanding to know why the Swiss wanted to ride to Lugano with civilians.

Sárëawë nodded once to Elaneth. "Well done, Elaneth. It is a dirty way to complete our task, but so is killing."

"What happened?" Elladan demanded.

"We're going to Lugano," Elaneth said. "Make room for one more."

The Elves did not object, though they shifted around grudgingly. Sárëawë joined them in the back; he did not want the Swiss soldier trying to make conversation with them. Elaneth could protect herself. He knew very well where she hid her dagger. He only hoped the soldier didn't try to look in that spot … for his own sake. Elaneth would not take kindly to anyone staring at her inner thigh.

The man was sitting in the passenger seat a moment later. His partner peered into the car, looking nonplussed by this turn of events. The Swiss soldier carried his machine gun now and laid it across his lap, the barrel pointed at Elaneth and his finger close to the trigger. His posture was relaxed, however, and the Elves felt no malice from him.

"Do you have a name, soldier?" Elaneth asked.

"Vittorio. And you, Signora?"

"Elaine."

Vittorio nodded to the Elves in the back. "Who are they?"

"My friends and brothers," she answered.

She kept a cool demeanor while she searched for reasonable names to assign to them. She nodded to Elladan and Elrohir, then Haldir, Legolas, and Sárëawë in turn.

"They are my brothers, Daniel and Elijah. Those three are friends, Lee, Hal, and Steve."

"Saluti."

"Suilad," the Elves answered.

The man furrowed his brow. The word was slightly Italian, but they had very strange accents and horrible pronunciation. Elaneth shook her head quickly. "They speak very little Italian."

Satisfied with that answer, he focused his attention on the only Italian speaker in the car. "How is it that you have access to so much money, Elaine?"

"I work for my relative, the Senator. We were born into a wealthy family."

"And now my children will be born into a wealthy family."

He smiled brashly, as if it was he who had just scammed Elaneth and not the other way around. The elleth was aware that six thousand American dollars nearly doubled, if not tripled, when exchanged for Swiss Francs, yet Vittorio had no idea that $6,000 was a paltry sum in relation to Thranduil's total wealth. It almost made Elaneth laugh to think of Thranduil's reaction to $6,000 missing from his Swiss bank account. It was such a small amount, he probably wouldn't notice until Elaneth pointed it out to him.

Like Zurich, Lugano was built on a lake from which the city took its name. The sunlight reflected off the crystal water of the lake and the snow-capped mountains, bathing the city in ethereal light. Italian design dominated the architecture, but an underlying sense of Switzerland added character to each building and street.

"Tell me how to get to Banca Privata Edmond de Rothschild," Elaneth said.

The soldier obliged happily, pointing out each street and direction. Finally, Elaneth eased the car to a stop in front of the bank. It was a large establishment, taking up half a block and climbing five stories into the sky.

"Have you an account I can transfer the money into?" Elaneth asked.

Vittorio nodded. He searched through his pockets for his wallet, fished out his account information card, and handed it to Elaneth. It was for a different bank, which Elaneth expected; Rothschild only dealt with accounts exceeding a million dollars.

"I will make the transfer. Then we will go to your bank where you will confirm that I have transferred the money properly."

The soldier nodded.

"Give me at least twenty minutes. They are cautious about secondary users accessing money."

Again, Vittorio agreed without words.

Elaneth entered the bank swiftly, hoping to appear confident. She had never handled Thranduil's money before, but she knew all of his information for emergencies. She thanked Ilúvatar for her Elven memory. Rattling off a ten digit account number would likely appease the teller's suspicious.

"Saluti," Elaneth said, stepping up the window. "Account number 1847503708. I am called Elaine Livingston. I would like to transfer eight thousand in American currency to account number 48745 at Banca Arner and withdraw two thousand Swiss francs."

The teller wrote down all the information and disappeared into the back. Elaneth sighed. This was likely to take forever. The second the teller saw the amount in Thranduil's account, he would be suspicious for two reasons. Firstly, transfers from their bank to a "working class" bank like Banca Arner almost never happened. Secondly, the amount being transferred was next to nothing.

The teller reappeared five minutes later.

"Please come with me, Signora Livingston. We need to match your fingerprints."

"Of course," she said, following him into the back.

In the car, Vittorio surveyed the Elves. He thought the sight of four men in the backseat was funny, but five was hysterical. However, they neither complained nor looked uncomfortable. In fact, they showed no emotion at all. Their faces were calm and set, like statues of the ancient Caesars. He could not even classify their expression as indifferent because that required some readable expression. He felt much more comfortable with the woman in the car; although she too showed very little emotion, at least she could speak Italian.

Elaneth emerged from the bank fifteen minutes later carrying a small bag with her. She handed it to Sárëawë. He surveyed the contents and nodded his approval. Vittorio was curious, but did not ask how much money she had withdrawn. At a place like Banca Privata Edmond de Rothschild, she could easily have millions to throw around. He was educated enough to know that Swiss bank accounts were never foreigners' primary accounts. They were always the emergency accounts with only a fraction of the holder's total wealth deposited. He wondered just who this woman was and how much he could have gotten out of the whole deal.

At Banca Arner, Vittorio and Elaneth went in together to check his account. He thanked the teller with a gleeful expression. Elaneth shook her head sadly. Money was so important to these mortals, yet they had so little time to spend it. Once they exited the bank, Elaneth turned to Vittorio.

"I and the American government thank you. The extra $2,000 is to keep you quiet. I trust you'll do this for us."

"Of course, la mia Signora."

The man and elleth parted ways quickly. Elaneth returned to the car to find Sárëawë once again seated in front and the tension in the car gone. Sárëawë had showed the Elves the money, and they were now confident that their quest could be fulfilled.

"We'll find a hotel and stay here tonight," Elaneth said. "We will leave the car parked on a side street. We can buy clothes and supplies tonight. In the morning, we'll take a train to Bern. I can secure us passports for the rest of our journey there."

The stay in Lugano was brief, lasting only long enough to buy supplies and sleep for a few hours. The people of Switzerland felt the strain of the war as much as the countries actively fighting. Banking and clock-making dominated most of the Swiss economy, with some farming and small business accounting for the rest, and the Swiss relied upon imports from the heavily industrialized nations of Germany, England, and the United States. Severe rations limited the Swiss market because major exporters now needed their own manufactured products for the war.

But as always, Elaneth found a way around such limitations. She had found clothing for them all, adequate amounts of dried foods, and various other supplies the Elves were fascinated by. Sleeping bags, first aid kits, and water bottles amused them immensely. Sárëawë had also bought knapsacks large enough to work as packs; the material was synthetic vinyl, something that looked very flimsy to the Elves.

Within twelve hours, Lugano was behind them and they were standing in the US Embassy in Bern. The American Ambassador to Switzerland, Jonathan Boyer, was not as kind as the Irish Ambassador. He was not amused that Elaine had showed up with four men who could not speak English and had requested passports for them all. For a moment, Jonathan had thought one of Elaine' friends, Lee she called him, was actually Thatcher. They looked shockingly alike, almost like twin brothers.

Despite his suspicions, he grudgingly agreed. He would be forced into it sooner or later. Thatcher was the President's lapdog-he could get anything he wanted. With a sneer, Jonathan directed them to the proper office.

An hour later, the Elves and Maia had new passports that listed them as naturalized Swiss citizens. They left Bern immediately, taking a train to Zurich.

"What is the plan this time, Elaneth?" Legolas asked.

The elleth pondered the question for a moment. Entering Germany was a difficult task, regardless of the form of transportation. She did not trust that the plan that had gotten them into Germany last time- dressing up as Nazi soldiers-would work a second time. The swastika armbands stolen from the guards aboard the train remained in Rome, and all six of them could never make it through customs with only Elaneth speaking. Sárëawë knew only Latin and English, and neither language would help them much.

"Driving worked well last time," Elrohir said.

Sárëawë shook his head. "Those soldiers did not know we were being hunted by the Italians. By now, every ranking officer in Germany will have our photographs."

"And every customs agent," Elaneth added. "There is no safe way into Germany. The train depot in Berlin will be crawling with Nazi guards, as will any airport."

"Taking a car over the border sounds best," Elladan stated.

"Gasoline is rationed worldwide. We were lucky with the stolen car," the elleth countered. "There will be very few cars crossing the border in either direction. I agree, however. We will have fewer soldiers to deal with at the border if we drive."

"Are there even any cars for hire in Europe?" Sárëawë questioned. "The living standard in wartime declines drastically when the war is on home soil."

Elaneth shrugged. "I cannot say for sure. We may have to buy a car. I can withdraw more from Thranduil's account in Zurich if that is the case."

"How will we handle these guards? The same way?" Haldir asked.

Elaneth shook her head. "I cannot say until we get there. Some Nazis are so indoctrinated with Hitler's agenda that they would not take a bribe, regardless of the amount. Nazi soldiers swear fealty to Hitler, not Germany. They fight for him and no one else. We will do what we must."

In Zurich, the companions rested for two days. They were in no hurry to confront Alatar. Their quick journey from Rome to Zurich was an escape from their enemies, not a flight to Berlin. No place was truly safe, but Zurich seemed the safest haven. Their first visit to the city was peaceful, and they hoped for their second to be the same.

After two days, they could find no excuses to remain in the beautiful northern Swiss city. In Lothlórien, the days had passed like minutes. Two months had felt like two weeks, and they had not realized until they had departed the Golden Wood how long they had lingered there. In the world of men hours crawled by like days, and the Elves were acutely aware of the slow passage of time.

It was on July the twenty-fourth that the Elves and Maia left Zurich in a used, but well-cared for cream-colored Delage Cabriolet. Again, the four ellyn were crammed into the back while Sárëawë took the passenger's seat and Elaneth drove. She had chosen the car, despite the others' protests, for strategic reasons. The Cabriolet was a convertible. If they encountered any trouble with the Nazi border security, all six of the companions could exit the car quickly to fight. However, the backseat was tiny, and the ellyn were quite literally sitting on top of each other.

The car sped along, passing the towns of Winterthur and Frauenfeld and leaving them behind as only specks on the horizon. After they passed Frauenfeld, Sárëawë directed the Elves to have their blades ready, but hidden. There was still a slight chance that Elaneth could bribe their way into Germany.

The mountains tapered off to become small foothills, rising only a few hundred feet. The land changed from the lush grasses of the Swiss valley into rocky soil with sparse trees and tuffs of grass. The city of Kreuzlingen was the final Swiss city they passed through. In the distance, the sun reflected brightly off a placid lake sitting between Switzerland, Germany, and Austria.

"This is Bodensee," Elaneth said, to the Elves. "It is called Lake Constance by English-speakers. This is the border between Switzerland and Germany. We will be stopped before we can cross the lake."

Elaneth slowed the car as they approached the lake. Like on the Swiss-Italian border, a red and white bar blocked the path from Switzerland to Germany. This time, however, there were no Swiss guards. On the Swiss side of the bridge only Nazi officers patrolled the road. On the German side of the lake, some seven miles away, Swiss guards controlled a second barrier.

Three soldiers dressed in brown Nazi uniforms stepped from the guard shack, one of the men signaling for the car to stop. They surrounded the car, one man on the left, one on the right, and one in front. Each guard carried a machine gun, pointing it at the car. Elaneth willed her heart to slow. Sárëawë radiated a gentle peace, but the elleth could not will herself to believe that everything would go smoothly.

"Where is your final destination?" the soldier asked, in harsh German.

"Berlin," Elaneth answered.

With spreading terror, she heard her own voice shaking. The guard did not seem to notice. If he did, he filed it away as evidence, but said nothing.

"Papers," he demanded.

Elaneth collected the passports and handed them to the soldier. She watched her own hand shake as she handed the booklets to the guard. Her head felt light, her throat clenched, and her vision swirled. She prayed to Ilúvatar that her breath did not rasp, but the blood pounded so loudly in her ears that she heard nothing else. The guard's voice sounded distant, and for a moment she forgot German. Unable to understand him, she could not comply with his request.

The Elves and Maia in the car tensed as Elaneth lost control of her calm façade. They glanced quickly at each other, unsure of what to do. If they drew their swords, the two guards on the sides of the car could be dealt with swiftly, but the Nazi standing in front of the blockade was too far away, and his gun was pointed directly at them, his finger on the trigger.

The guard barked an order at Elaneth again. She shook her head, prayed frantically to Ilúvatar to restore her understanding and her sense. Tears of fear and frustration pricked at her eyes.

"Elaneth, answer the man," Sárëawë ordered.

The words bounced through Elaneth's head, though they were heard by no one else. The fluid Latin words snapped her back into reality. She turned to the guard, ready to answer him, but he had had enough. With one hand, he grabbed Elaneth's neck, forcing her to look up, and he roughly brushed away the dark hair covering her cheek.

Time seemed to slow as the guard examined Elaneth's ear. Finally, he turned to his fellow soldiers and nodded once.

"Get out of the car," he ordered, in clear Sindarin.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I'll wager that some of you laughed at the bribe amount, right? It was one thousand American dollars per person, if you've forgotten already. Remember, this is 1942. Inflation didn't spike until the 1970's. Here's a brief list of average prices from 1942, all in American currency.

House: $6,950

Car: $1,100

Postage stamp: $0.03

The average annual salary was $2,400, and minimum wage was $0.30 per hour. So $1,000 per person is no joke.


	25. Prophecy

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"**Prophesy"**

The Elves stood in line in front of the car. Their weapons remained inside, still covered by their Elven cloaks. Each silently cursed himself for not tucking a dagger or knife under his jacket. The Nazis cut the engine to the car and confiscated the keys. The man who had ordered them to vacate the car continued speaking in the Elvish tongue as he paced up and down the line of immortals.

"Der Führer is most upset that you stole his letters. He hoped you would return to Germany so you could give them back. It seems that you have been careless, however. Il Duce called three days ago to inform Der Führer that he had the letters in his possession. Stealing from Der Führer is not a wise thing to do."

"Nor is turning against the Valar," Sárëawë proclaimed.

The officer turned to him. He was not outraged at being interrupted, but rather looked curiously at the Maia, as if "Valar" was a word he did not know. Realization dawned upon the Elves. These men did not know whom they served!

The officer continued talking, still contemplating the word "Valar." He knew that "vala" meant power. The idea of "the powerful ones" intrigued him. He wondered who they were and why Hitler had not mentioned them when teaching the Officer Corps Sindarin and about Elves.

"Now you shall pay for your crime. Usually we would have some fun with you first. I personally would like to see an Elf get shot in the back as he ran away screaming."

The Elves scoffed at the idea. No Elf would run away shrieking from death. Eternity in Mandos was a better choice than cowardice. Obviously the man did not know the nature of Elves, only the word.

"I have been ordered to bring you to Der Fürher alive." A dark smile spread across his lips. "That is a worse fate than any bullet."

The officer turned to his subordinates and gave them orders in German, and then turned back to Elaneth with menacing eyes. It seemed that a sudden wave of evil had swept over the man that was much stronger than his previous malice as if a deadly thought had entered the man's mind. He said something to Elaneth in German. The elleth tensed and swallowed deeply.

"So you do understand German," he said, turning away.

With Elven speed and grace, Elaneth drew her dagger from the sheath tied to her thigh and thrust it into the man's neck. Without hesitation, the Elves and Maia lunged for the two other guards. With their guns torn or kicked from their grasps, the Nazi men were helpless. They held up their hands, begging for mercy in German.

Elaneth regarded them for a moment, listening to their pleas. Only she could understand their words. The men sued for pardon and begged forgiveness. They promised to let them pass the border and never speak of it to anyone.

The Elves looked at Elaneth questioningly. The elleth stared hard at the two men, as if searching their souls for a shred of decency. The corners of her lips turned down, making her features dark and brooding. Her friends felt not an ounce of emotion from her. Her heart was cold and unfeeling and her face reflected that emptiness.

She turned to the car and retrieved her short sword. The men's pleas turned to sobs and wails as she approached them. They sank to their knees, as if bowing to Elaneth. Haldir sneered at the men. Had they not enough dignity to accept death rather than grovel for life? If they were spared, how could they survive each day knowing they had forfeited their pride for life?

Elaneth unsheathed the sword and tossed the scabbard into the driver's seat. She very rarely used her sword, but she always carried it. As she gazed at the cold metal blade, old memories drifted through her mind. Terrible, dark memories clouded with smoke and fire. She held the point towards the two men and spoke to them in German.

"Die slowly and face Ilúvatar with shame, Germans, disgraces to your proud Rohirrim ancestors."

She dragged the sword over each man's throat slowly, ensuring that she did not cut the jugular very deeply. She moved away from the men, who grasped for the hem of her dress. They still begged for mercy, but their words were broken by coughs and chokes. Blood gurgled in the back of their throats, slowly suffocating them and staining their lips red.

The Elves and Sárëawë stood back from the scene. Not one of them could believe what they were seeing. The cruelty of such a slow death and the utter lack of concern on Elaneth's face astonished them. They barely believed this was the same elleth who only weeks before had adamantly defended the race of men. Now, she stood before two young men, watching them die, holding the weapon of punishment in her own hand.

"Idhriniel," Sárëawë whispered.

Elaneth whipped around, her sword crisply cutting the air. The bloody edge of the weapon pointed at the Maia, but Elaneth did not lower the sword.

"Is it not obvious by now, my friend, that I am not the Wise Child Olórin thought I was?"

A pregnant pause followed her question. The Elves watched over her shoulder as the men slumped forward, their lives finally drained from them. The Maia looked again at the elleth with sad eyes.

"My dear, what happened to you that you bear such hate in your heart?"

Elaneth did not answer. She bent down and cleaned her sword on the grass, then retrieved the scabbard and sheathed her weapon. In that moment, the silence of the lake valley was shattered. German voices shouting from across the bridge echoed across the lake, quickly followed by the roar of an engine crossing the bridge.

"The Swiss are coming!" Elaneth cried. "Get your weapons!"

The Elves hesitated for only a brief moment to look to the north. Speeding across the bridge was a giant automobile painted green and brown. Three men sat in the cabin and eight more stood in the back, pointing at them. Even a human could see the three dead Germans on the ground.

"Into the hills," Sárëawë ordered, leading the way.

The Elves grabbed their weapons and followed the Maia quickly. Elaneth cursed at herself for wearing high-heels. She had planned for every possible situation except running up a hill. The crest of the hill was lined with many uneven boulders shaped like spiked dragon teeth. The rocks were wide, but only tall enough to cover half a fully grown Elf.

Elaneth was the last to reach the crest of the hill. Haldir pulled her through the maze of boulders and behind a wide rock just as the military truck pulled up to the foot of the hill. The tires ground against the rocky path and the brakes shrieked loudly. The Swiss inspected each of their German counterparts, but found them all dead.

A blond-haired Swiss soldier, with height to rival an Elf, turned towards the crest of the hill. He saw nothing, but knew that the culprits hid somewhere nearby. His subordinates brought three knapsacks to him and listed their contents. He nodded, wondering why travelers would carry military-type rations with them.

"Surrender and you will not be harmed," he called in German.

Elaneth ignored his promise. If they were captured by the Swiss, they would be promptly extradited to Germany, tried and convicted of murdering three German officers, and spend the rest of the war (or longer, depending on the outcome) in a Concentration Camp.

"These are not our countrymen. We will treat you fairly."

The Elves watched Elaneth for clues as to what the man was saying, but she gave none. Her bow was ready, with an arrow fitted to the string. She craned her neck slightly to peer through a small fissure in the rocks. As she had suspected, the Swiss stood in an offensive military position.

"They're coming up the hill," she whispered.

Before her sentence was complete, the sound of rocks crunching under heavy boots ended the tentative peace. Metal slapped against flesh as the soldiers readied their machine guns. The Elves and Maia silently agreed that there was no way to avoid confrontation and peered over the rocks to aim their arrows. Not having a bow, Sárëawë unsheathed his sword and waited.

"I will accept your surrender," the Swiss officer repeated, "and promise you fair treatment. This is the last time I offer that bargain."

A long pause followed his words. From behind him, a young soldier scoffed.

"They are murderers, Captain. They do not deserve-"

A sharp twang split the air, and the man's words ended abruptly. He stumbled backwards, expletives and gasps escaping his mouth. The Captain turned to his soldier, sucking in a deep breath. A long, green-fletched arrow protruded from his chest.

"Bloody hell," he hissed. "They're fucking savages! Open fire!"

Only a second after he issued the order, he fell face forward, an identical arrow projecting from his back. A moment of silence followed, as the soldiers glanced at each other in disbelief.

"Follow orders!" one soldier cried. "Open fire!"

The Elves slumped further behind the rocks as a shower of bullets ricocheted off the rocks. Bits of rock broken free by the impact of the bullets smacked their faces and the charging soldiers kicked up a cloud of dust. The metal shells whizzed through the air as fast as Elven arrows, but unlike a bow the machine guns seemed to be fed with an endless supply of bullets and the soldiers were fast approaching the crest of the hill. In the time it took for each Elf to draw, nock, aim, and fire an arrow, a machine gun could fire tens of bullets.

"We can't let them reach the boulders," Elaneth called.

At the first break in gunfire, Elaneth and Haldir swung out from their hiding spot, each releasing an arrow. Each found its mark and two soldiers fell; three more leading the assault fell alongside them, cut down by Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir.

The remaining four soldiers hesitated. The men were unused to archery as a means of warfare. It was an archaic form of fighting and therefore they assumed less effective. It would seem they were mistaken.

"Let's return to our stations and call the Germans about this. They will deal with these archers," one soldier argued.

Two of the others quickly agreed with him and scampered down the hill. The fourth man, however, was not as easily swayed. His machine gun was empty and he had no more bullets, but he pulled a pistol from his belt.

"Then I will deal with these savages," he said, sneering at his fellow soldiers.

As if in response to his words, three arrows sliced through the air. In quick succession, his compatriots fell. He surveyed the damage for a moment with doubt in his mind. Their number had begun as eleven, but he was now only one. The bodies of his comrades lay strewn about the hillside. The corpses, twisted into unnatural positions, each had a single arrow embedded in their chests. His mind reeled, wondering what kind of killers he faced. Who was so well-trained in archery that they could kill ten men with ten arrows? He noted the different colored fletching, however. Most of the feathers were green, but others were white and even fewer were yellow. He felt hidden eyes watching him. A soft whisper caressed his mind. It sounded like his old grandfather imparting wisdom to him. It told him to leave. He knew if he lowered his gun, he would be allowed to retreat. The soldier set his jaw and turned to the hilltop. He was only a few steps away.

"I am not a cowardly German who massacres from trenches. I am a Swiss soldier. I am descended from men who guarded the Pope!"

He cocked the hammer of his gun, swung around the first boulder, and stopped dead in his tracks. Blocking his path was the tallest man he had ever seen. He stood to at least 6'5" with broad shoulders and stern features. He held a long bow with the string taut. The metal tip of the arrow pointed directly at the soldier's chest, and the soldier had lowered his gun so that it was pointed at the archer's stomach.

"I'll see you in Purgatory, my friend," the soldier smiled.

The arrow left the string and the bullet left the barrel at the same moment.

"Haldir!" Elaneth cried.

The march warden stumbled backward. The long bow slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground. He watched in horror as a patch of blood spread across his gray trousers at an alarming rate. Oddly, he felt very little pain. It was not so awful as the bite of an arrowhead or sword, and yet there was so much blood. The idea made him dizzy. Haldir vaguely felt himself fall, though he could not imagine why. Everything looked perfect to his vision. Galadriel smiled gently and welcomed him into her home.

Elaneth caught Haldir as he fell, crashing to her knees with his weight and eased him onto the rocky soil. Elladan and Elrohir, being the only ones with healing abilities, took control the situation immediately. They sent Legolas to the car to get their packs.

"We have to move," Elaneth said. "It won't be long before the Swiss or Germans come looking for us. It takes sometimes all night to remove a bullet."

Elrohir nodded. "She is right, brother. We do not know exactly how to heal Haldir and we cannot be interrupted."

Elladan sighed, looking around. The foothills were not much cover, but he did not want to risk moving Haldir. Haldir had succumbed to unconsciousness far too quickly for his liking. The gray material of his suit trousers was thoroughly soaked with blood. He shook his head.

"There is not time."

Elaneth was about to protest, but Sárëawë interjected.

"I will go look for some cover. Perhaps a cave or niche in the hills. Elaneth is right, however. We must move as soon as possible."

Not long after the Maia departed, Legolas returned with all six of the packs. Elladan cut a large section away from Haldir's trousers, revealing the wound. The entry wound was on Haldir's right hip and appeared very deep. The bullet hole seeped blood steadily, surging with the Elf's pulse. The twins cursed in unison.

"The artery is cut," Elrohir stated. "Elaneth, what do you know of healing?"

The elleth shook her head. "All I know is that the bullet must be removed and that the effects of a bullet wound are the same as a poisoned arrow wound."

That knowledge appeared to ease the twins' fears. They set to work quickly with Legolas and Elaneth retrieving the objects they requested.

"We need a fire to sterilize the knife," Elladan said.

Elaneth dug around her pack and pulled out a glass bottle full of clear liquid. The twins watched in awe as the liquid peroxide bubbled and hissed, leaving a white foam on the dagger.

"The advantages of modern medicine," the elleth said. "It's sterile."

The sons of Elrond returned to their work, quietly debating about the best way to remove the small bullet. They enlisted Elaneth to hold a compress against the wound and quizzed her about the modern procedure to extricate bullets. Her knowledge was not very helpful, as it was vague and essentially only common sense. Finally, Elrohir began the surgery the only way he knew how.

Elaneth turned her head away and screwed her eyes shut as Elrohir cut a slit in Haldir's skin, but even worse were the probing tweezers held by Elladan. The bullet hole was close to Haldir's side, only a few millimeters in. Without the proper knowledge of how to remove such a small weapon, the twins decided to spilt open Haldir's side and look for the bullet that way. It was undoubtedly the wrong way, but they did not imagine blindly thrusting the tweezers into the wound was any better.

"I've found a small cave," Sárëawë announced. "It's not far from here, but the opening is very low. It is too shallow for any animal to claim, but it will do for our purposes."

"We cannot move now," Elrohir said. "We are too far into the procedure."

"Then we will stand guard," Legolas said, nodding to Sárëawë.

The Elf and Maia moved to the first ring of boulders, leaving the twins and Elaneth to care for Haldir. The elleth did not seem to like surgery much, but she turned again towards Haldir and asked the sons of the Elrond how she could help.

The sun dipped low on the horizon before Elladan and Elrohir felt they had made any progress. The tiny black bullet proved a more formidable foe than they had imagined. Several hours passed by, but they were fortunately left in peace. The gasoline ration limited the number of cars crossing the border, and the wreckage of the Elves' attempt to enter Germany was undiscovered. During those hours, Legolas and Sárëawë piled the bodies, for burning or burial, whichever was more convenient.

As the sun began its final descent, Haldir woke from his unconscious dreams. Pain of a magnitude he had never experienced washed over him. His head throbbed, and he struggled for every breath. He felt as if fire flowed in his veins and yet he felt strangely cold. The pain seized control of his body, wracking him with spasms. He uttered broken Quenya moans of pain, his voice cracked and seeped with torment. A sheen of sweat covered his body, and his face lost nearly all color.

"Make him sleep!" Elladan demanded.

Elaneth looked at him like he had told her to make a fish breathe out of water. Sárëawë appeared by her side a moment later. He placed his hands on Haldir's forehead and closed his eyes. He whispered an Elvish sleeping spell, but his words trailed off halfway through the chant. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The gray orbs were filled with sorrow and shame.

"It is gone," he whispered.

"Sárëawë, he must sleep," Elladan demanded.

The Maia shook his head, forlornly. "My power is gone. I can give him nothing. Magic is gone from the world."

Elaneth released the compress, and Legolas's hands quickly replaced hers. The elleth grasped Haldir's hands in her own and eased herself onto the rocks next to him. Haldir's blue eyes, glazed with pain, shifted abruptly to look at her. He set his jaw tightly, grinding his teeth together as he focused on the elleth. Elaneth looked away from him for a moment to speak with Sárëawë. A moment later, a strap of leather was pressed to his lips. Understanding the purpose, he opened his mouth and bit down on the leather.

Elaneth looked back at him, speaking to him. The meaning of the Sindarin words escaped Haldir, but her gentle, musical voice was soothing. The minutes stretched on like hours, but Elaneth did not turn her attention away again. She showed no signs of discomfort when Haldir squeezed her hands as the waves of pain came. The march warden focused hard on the elleth's light blue eyes in an attempt to ignore the pain. Finally, the agony eased, and Haldir returned to the comforting blackness of his dreams.

The elleth moved away from Haldir, a shaky hand wiping the tears from her cheeks. She stretched out her arm, clutching at a rock for support and eased herself onto the ground. She took deep breaths, willing her nerves to calm. Her eyelids slipped closed, squeezing out a final tear and an unbidden memory came to her.

_"You knew I could not live forever, Heofonlicscíne."_

_She nodded. "Yes, I knew that. I don't know what I shall do without someone who understands me."_

_The Ostrogoth smiled gently. "One day, Heaven-gift, the Valar will bless you. They will send to you an immortal who will understand you. Though I doubt any Elf could be as good a friend as a mortal. We cherish our short years and all those who bless them. I have especially cherished you, my Heofonlicscíne. I wish we could have shared a fate like Aragorn and Arwen, but I do not resent your reluctance to make the other ellyth jealous by marrying such a handsome man."_

_She chuckled softly. "You're such a pompous ass."_

_"So you've said. I go now to the Halls of my Fathers, to Éomer Éadig and Théoden Ednew. Farewell, Heofonlicscíne."_

"Elaneth!"

Elladan's sharp cry startled Elaneth from her memories. She jumped to her feet and raced back to the clearing in the rocks. Haldir was awake again. In a low, hoarse voice, he called her name. The elleth fell to her knees beside the Elf and clasped both his hands in one of hers. With her free hand, she wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Have you nothing to numb the pain?" she asked.

Elrohir shook his head. "There are no useful herbs anywhere close by. Sárëawë already looked. All he found was withered grass."

"Are you almost finished?"

The other twin sighed. "We have not found the bullet yet."

Elaneth turned back to Haldir. He struggled to control the pain, but he was rapidly losing the battle. It was the kind of pain an Elf had never endured. An arrowhead quickly plucked from the body was painful, but easily treated, for Elven bodies healed quickly. The bullet was not the origin of his pain. It was the toxin released by his body to combat the torn muscles. Until the wound was stitched, the poison would continue to plague him.

"I would make you sleep if I could," Elaneth said softly.

She ran her fingers through Haldir's golden hair, caressed his jaw, and held his hands tightly. Elaneth could only pray that her touch offered him some comfort or reassurance.

Long after the sun set and the bright stars of Elbereth twinkled in the night sky, the twin healers finally located the bullet. Haldir drifted in and out of consciousness during those hours. It was unfortunate that he was awake when the object of his agony was found.

"Hold him down," Elladan said, looking at Elaneth.

The command startled her, but the Elf was an able healer, so she complied. She imagined removing a bullet would be less painful than an arrow, but Elladan did not agree. Against her better judgment, she glanced at Haldir's wound. His hip was torn open from the long hours of digging and prodding. The flow of blood was staunched, but a pile of bloody cloths lay behind Elrohir, tossed out of the way.

Legolas and Sárëawë joined the three Elves a moment later, having heard Elladan's order. Together, Legolas and Elaneth leaned part of their weight on Haldir's shoulders while the Maia secured his legs. Haldir understood why they needed to restrain him and bit down hard on the strap of leather in his mouth. Several seconds passed by silently, each Elf held their breath and waited for the inevitable. Haldir released a painful cry and jerked his shoulders off the ground once before falling back into unconsciousness.

The moment Elrohir dislodged the bullet, a gush of blood issued from Haldir's hip. The twins worked swiftly and silently to stem the flow of blood and stitch the wounds. Closing the artery took the longest because the process was the most difficult.

"We have to move him carefully," Elladan stated. "We have no herbs to place inside the wound or to ease his pain. We will have to watch him closely. I do not know how quickly an Elven body can heal without the proper medicine."

The companions set to work immediately. They constructed a crude stretcher out of branches and a sleeping bag. Each Elf took one corner of the makeshift bed and Sárëawë led the way to the cave.

Entering the cave without jostling Haldir was quite a task. The mouth was roughly the height of a door to a hobbit-hole and twice as wide. A small tunnel of the same size gently opened into a wide domed chamber. It appeared artificially made and without any signs of animals. It was small, and the Elves could not stand up to their full height. From the inside of the cave, Sárëawë set shrubs and bushes in front of the opening in a haphazard pattern.

"Any woodsman will know there is an opening behind your scrawny shrubs," Legolas laughed.

"There are not many woodsmen about these days," the Maia countered.

The Elves stretched out slowly. They built a small fire, passed around a water bottle and cloth to clean the blood of their hands, and took turns leaving the cave to change their bloody clothing. Elaneth was the last to leave and insisted she go alone. Sárëawë hovered near the cave mouth with his sword ready, just in case she was to call for aid.

Behind him, the ellyn readied their beds for the night while they shared a package of dried fruit. The dried meat Elaneth called "beef jerky" was entirely unpalatable, so that remained undisturbed in their packs. Elaneth returned a moment later without incident, sat down closest to Haldir, and settled against the wall.

"I will take the first watch," Legolas said, moving to sit at the cave entrance.

The Maia and sons of Elrond accepted his offer and lay down for the night. Legolas glanced at Elaneth. The elleth leaned against the rock wall, her eyes staring at the black ceiling.

"You should try to sleep," he said.

"I am."

"You're sitting up."

"I know."

"Why don't you lie down?"

The Maia and twin Elves watched with amusement as Elaneth stretched out on the ground. Legolas was clearly still not happy. The elleth lay on the hard floor of the cave without a blanket or cape. She shut her eyes tightly, as if she meant to sleep in the mortal way. The corners of Legolas's lips turned down. She was brushing him off! He opened his mouth to protest her actions, but Elrohir shook his head. With a flick of his wrist, he motioned to Haldir.

The Elf lay unconscious on the stretcher made from his own bedroll. Another sleeping bag covered his body and under his head was Elaneth's neatly folded cloak.


	26. Post Traumatic

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"**Post-Traumatic"**

"Wake-up."

Elrohir retreated from the hand that shook him, burying himself deeper into his sleeping bag. The idea of a double folded blanket suddenly seemed ingenious to him. The intruder into his dreams persisted, shaking him roughly.

"Wake up, Elrohir."

The Elf flipped over, growling and swatting at the bothersome hand.

"You are worse than my mother, Elaneth!"

The elleth smiled sweetly, moving away from the angry Elf. She motioned to the small fire. A cooking spit crossed over the small fire pit and two dead quail lay a few feet away.

"You woke me to pluck feathers?" he asked dryly.

Elaneth nodded.

"Why?"

"I don't like doing it."

Elrohir blanched at the statement. "Unbelievable! You can put an arrow straight through these birds, but you can't pull out the feathers? Typical elleth." He muttered the last sentence while climbing to his feet.

Elaneth straightened. "What did you say?"

The Elf shook his head. "Nothing. Why don't you wake Elladan? He wakes much better than I do."

The younger twin grinned sadistically as Elaneth knelt next to his brother. To his dismay, Elladan bade her good morning and rose quickly.

"Traitor," he murmured.

"You shouldn't argue so loudly. I would have remained asleep. Then you could have had your revenge on Elaneth."

Elladan crouched next to Haldir and inspected his wounds. By the time Elaneth roused Legolas and Sárëawë, Elladan had finished his check up.

"Well?"

The Elf shook his head. "It is healing, but much slower than usual. I do not think we can move today. As much as I wish to leave this place, traveling by car will jostle him too much."

"We have a lot to do today anyhow," Elaneth said. "First, we need to move the car off the road, if it's still there. I would be surprised if another traveler has not already found it. We should also bury the bodies."

After a quick breakfast of quail and dried fruit, the Elves began their duties for the day. It was assumed that Elaneth would remain with Haldir, so the three ellyn and Maia accepted the tasks of burying the dead soldiers and hiding the car. Their first priority was to move the car off the road. Elaneth insisted this was more important than the dead soldiers, as the vehicle was registered in her name. If a warrant for her arrest was issued, their quest was all but hopeless. The Nazi propaganda office would have a field day displaying her photograph in every newspaper, magazine, and transportation office in Occupied Territory.

Sárëawë agreed with her. He wanted to move the car the previous day, but the sons of Elrond had needed him to help with Haldir's surgery. He dangled the keys in the air, smiling impishly at the Elves.

"I don't know how to drive," he laughed. "Don't tell Elaneth."

The Elves climbed into the car, laughing nervously. They hoped the Maia was joking, but when he shifted into reverse instead of first gear, they became very concerned. Luckily, the car was much more comfortable with only four occupants and it was easier to grip the handles.

"We'll hide it across the bridge. That way we'll have an easier time of leaving."

The car lunged forward and died in the middle of the road, but Sárëawë wasn't fazed. He started the car again, this time successfully putting it into first gear. He fiddled with the gearshift, but couldn't find second gear. So they glided across the bridge at a ridiculously low speed. He found that controlling the car was quite a task. At every bump it veered sharply to the right and it took a large portion of his strength to maneuver back onto the road.

With much to do, Sárëawë drove off the bridge into Germany. He scarcely believed the deceased guards were still unnoticed. He counted eight hours since the whole event occurred. It was not a terribly long time span. As far as he knew, the military still functioned in twelve-hour shifts, but a traveler crossing the Swiss-German border had probably reported the lack of guards already.

Like the other side of the lake, foothills lined a good portion of the horizon. Sárëawë eased the car off the road and into the hills. After quite a few jolts and dents in the bumper, the vehicle was safely hidden.

"We have quite a walk back," Legolas said, looking across the lake.

With Elven-sight, he saw the other river bank perfectly. Elaneth was there and she waved to them. She was filling up their water bottles and disposing of the quail bones. They stood on opposite shores, gesturing wildly to each other for a moment. The Elves were asking her if it was safe to walk across the bridge or if they should find another way to cross. Elaneth shook her head, laughing at their humorous pantomimes.

Then the elleth narrowed her eyes, peering into the distance. To her eyes, small specks roved wildly over the flat land on the opposite side of the lake. The Elves and Maia, noticing her concentration, turned to see what drew her attention. A low rumble, undetectable to human ears, echoed through the air. Elaneth sucked in her breath. A convoy of German S.S. trucks were driving towards the border.

"Do not come back!" she called.

Her voice cut through the stillness around the lake. Sárëawë shook his head impatiently, moving towards the car. There was a chance that they could cut off the line of trucks.

"We will not abandon you and Haldir," he answered.

"It is no use, Sárëawë! They are too many and well armed. What we cannot achieve in numbers, I can in stealth. All of Hitler's army could not detect two wood-elves. Take the car and go to Konstanz. It is but three miles from here. Wait for us there. We will come as soon as Haldir can walk."

The ellyn debated amongst themselves. They reluctantly agreed to follow her orders, but only because Sárëawë saw wisdom in the advice. When they looked up again, Elaneth was gone. A blur of gray high in the hills was the only indication of her presence.

When they returned to the car, Sárëawë did not toy with the Elves again. This time he fired up the engine and pulled onto the main road, quickly pushing the car all the way up to third gear. Before they crossed paths with the convoy, he turned sharply onto a side road.

* * *

Elaneth scrambled up the last incline of the hill. She ducked inside the cave mouth and quickly placed bushes in front of the entrance, doing her best to ensure that the greenery was arranged in a natural pattern. She unscrewed the cap of the water battle and doused the fire. A cloud of smoke rose from the ashes, leaving a distinctly sulfurous smell in the air. She cursed in frustration at the slowly flowing water. When the smoke finally cleared, she tossed the empty bottle aside and moved for her weapons.

She prayed to Ilúvatar that she would not have to use them. If she counted correctly, the convoy consisted of six armored trucks. That meant between thirty-six and forty-eight German soldiers were coming to scour the foothills. A shudder passed up her spine. That many soldiers sent after six archers could mean only one thing: Alatar had correctly guessed that Elves were the culprits.

The brakes shrieked and gravel groaned under the oversized tires of the trucks. The S.S. soldiers issued from the back of the vehicles with offensive precision, machine guns at the ready. The officer shouted orders to his men in a booming voice that echoed through the hills. He did not care for stealth. He had fifty men searching for six archers.

The elleth knelt at the cave entrance, her sword unsheathed. She heard every movement of the Germans, but she could see nothing. That worried her, but she dared not leave the cave.

Within seconds, the S.S. men were swarming over the foothills, searching for any sign of the assassins. Their heavy boots marked their paths clearly and Elaneth stayed alert to the position of every man. One third of the soldiers remained on the road, probably collecting the corpses of the Swiss and German soldiers and loading them into a truck. A few others were sent to guard the border stations on both sides of the lake. One truck drove away, heading for Bern to inform the Swiss government of the attack on their men. Elaneth counted a total of thirty-three men searching the hills.

The pattern of search they used was the classic model. They spilt up, each man taking a section of the hills. It was a perfect way for the S.S. to operate … if they were searching for other men. Elaneth thanked Ilúvatar for this blessing. Hiding from one or two men was an easy task. As the men neared the cave, the air grew thick with tension. Footsteps filtered through the rocks. The soldiers walked on top of the cave, unaware that their prey was only feet below them.

Elaneth glanced over her shoulder at Haldir. She hoped the Elf did not wake until the search was over. His waking was usually accompanied by groans. Though men's ears were not as sensitive as Elven hearing, these S.S. men were the best trained soldiers in the world. Any sound would betray their position to at least one, if not more, of the men.

To the elleth's surprise, Haldir was alert. His eyes were clouded with pain, and his skin still had a sickly pallor, but he made no sound. Elaneth marveled at his ability to mask his pain and appear in complete control. Upon second thought, she chided herself for second guessing his abilities. He was a seasoned march warden of Lothlórien, not a youngling warrior experiencing his first wound. No doubt, the danger in the air had brought him to consciousness.

When Elaneth turned around, she nearly gasped and scurried backwards. At the last second, she steeled her nerves and froze her movements. Standing in front of the cave mouth was a German soldier. His black boots pointed towards the entrance and his feet were firmly planted on the dusty ground.

* * *

Sárëawë glanced in the rearview mirror. A cloud of dust marked the passage of the little cream-colored car. His intention was to drive in a wide square, staying clear of the German border. In an hour they could return to the cave to collect Haldir and Elaneth. He wasn't sure the march warden should be moved so soon, but there was little choice.

The engine of the Cabriolet hummed rhythmically and the scenery flew past in a blur of green and blue. The little French car was well built and made just for the purpose of driving fast. For the first time, the Maia was glad for Elaneth's decision to buy the sporty car.

"Sárëawë!" Elladan yelled, over the rushing wind. "Behind us!"

Sárëawë glanced into the rearview mirror again, and Legolas turned around. The sons of Elrond sat twisted around, pointing at the trail of dust. Two headlights were cutting through the murky brown cloud. The lights sat up high and approached them at an alarming pace. The Maia cursed loudly.

"Buckle your seatbelts!"

The Elves complied and strapped themselves into the car. Just as the last belt snapped into place, the German truck roared out of the dust cloud and slammed into the back of the Cabriolet. The Maia pressed the accelerator to the floor and pushed the car into fourth gear.

"Hold on!"

He swung the car to the left, skidding onto a narrow road that was probably only meant for hikers and bicyclists. The back of the car swung around, whipping the twin Elves back and forth. Sárëawë shifted the car expertly from fourth gear to third and back again. The Elves began to wonder how often the Maia had been chased by military vehicles because he seemed rather adept at outmaneuvering the truck. Sárëawë was expertly utilizing the car's best quality: its size. It could accelerate faster, turn quicker, and stop faster than the German truck.

The truck caught up again, this time bumping the car from the side. Two wheels skidded off the road, momentarily slowing the car, but the Maia did not let up on the accelerator. The truck backed off, falling a good distance behind.

"What are they doing?" Legolas asked skeptically.

"Put up the top!" the Maia yelled.

The sons of Elrond complied quickly, heaving the white soft top from its place behind them. Legolas snapped the latches as soon as the canvas was within reach. The sudden absence of wind left a ringing in the Elves' ears, but the rush of the air was quickly replaced with the ping of bullets ricocheting off the sides of the car.

The Elves ducked low in their seats, and Sárëawë lowered his head as far as he could. Random bullets ripped through the convertible canvas from odd angles. A lucky bullet crashed through the windshield of the car, spraying Sárëawë and Legolas with broken glass. The Maia struggled to control the car, but the high speed of the vehicle was its curse.

The little Cabriolet plunged off the road and down the steep bank of the country road. The descent was slowed as the right side of the car smashed into a sturdy oak tree. The grill and a front wheel flew off the car, smashing the passenger side window and tearing the white canvas top, but the car continued to careen down the hill. The front of the car hit a dip in the hill, flipping the car forward and onto its side.

Finally, the car slid to a halt in the middle of a cow pasture. All around the car, dairy cows chewed on the grass, unaware of the wrecked car. One small calf mooed at the vehicle, but quickly ran away. After that, utter silence filled the valley for thirty seconds.

Then the little cream-colored Cabriolet exploded into a fireball of gasoline.


	27. Secret Souls

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"**Secret Souls"**

"Schneider! We found something!" a distant voice called.

The man in front of the cave mouth hesitated for a moment. Finally, the black boots turned and marched off towards the voice. Within moments, the search had ended. The S.S. men retreated back to the convoy, and the engines faded away. Elaneth slouched down on the ground, struggling to control her breathing.

She moved to the back of the cave quickly and knelt down next to Haldir. The march warden released a long, painful breath. He attempted to shift position, but the stabbing pain in his side stilled his movements.

"Lie still, Haldir," Elaneth ordered. "Elladan and Elrohir say that you should not move today."

The Elf sighed and relaxed his muscles, sinking down into his sleeping bag. His eyes searched the cave. He did not remember being brought to the place, but evidence of their encampment was all around. The fire pit, his friends' bedrolls, and their packs lay scattered around the small chamber.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

Elaneth sighed, peering at the cave mouth over her shoulder. "They have gone to Konstanz. We were apart when the Germans came. I told them not to come back. They are waiting for us across the lake."

"They did not think to leave a healer with me?" the march warden chuckled. "That is a very good example of their level of common sense."

A small smile touched the elleth's lips. Haldir seemed better, though he looked very uncomfortable. She wished she knew something about medicinal plants to help ease his pain. Even when the herbs were crushed, packaged, and labeled in a supermarket she couldn't tell them apart.

"That is my fault," she admitted. "I would not leave you."

Haldir attempted to smile at the elleth. The familiar haunted look had returned to her beautiful eyes. This time, however, the blue orbs were not empty. A veil of wetness misted her eyes, though she fought to control her tears. He reached out and clasped her hand in his palm.

"I am glad you did not."

The elleth looked away, studying the scratches in the cave floor for a long moment. In that time, she regained control her thoughts. When she looked up, her eyes were dry and the doleful expression on her face was set and determined.

"I need to look around."

Haldir nodded and released her hand. He was chagrinned that he was not well enough to go with her. After all, it was the march warden who was supposed to scout for enemies. As if she read his thoughts, Elaneth smiled mischievously.

"Did you know I was once a march warden also?"

"When, where, and why would a Princess act as a march warden?" Haldir demanded.

Elaneth laughed softly. "I'll tell you more later."

The elleth ducked out of the cave and disappeared into the maze of rocks, but Haldir's focus remained at the cave entrance. That elleth was unbelievable! Only a day before, she had refused to speak about her past. Now she was promising to talk about it more. Haldir shook his head and sighed.

"I think I've figured out why Lord Celeborn doesn't talk much," Haldir muttered. "Lady Galadriel probably has him so confused he's afraid his words will come out backwards."

With the half hour, Elaneth returned with an armload of dry branches. Haldir was asleep again, for which Elaneth was thankful. She abandoned the fire for a while and eased back the sleeping bag covering Haldir to examine his wound. It was not as ugly as it had been in the early morning hours, which she took as a good sign. The skin was still swollen, but only dark pink and not hot to the touch. Quickly and gently, the elleth washed the wound and applied a fresh bandage.

When Haldir woke again, the day was over. The sky was lit with the waxing moon and majestic stars of Elbereth. A fire crackled in the pit, but it was small and radiated very little heat. Elaneth sat on the opposite side of the fire, a small branch and a dagger in her hand. She carved away the wood slowly, her attention focused solidly on the detailing.

"It's too small for an arrow," Haldir said.

The elleth started at the sound of his voice.

"I know, but I was bored. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

Elaneth laid down the stick and crossed the cave. She pulled away the sleeping bag from Haldir's side. Much to his horror, the Elf realized he was wearing no leggings. The elleth chuckled softly at his expression.

"I helped with the surgery and I have checked your wound all day. Don't be modest now."

"I was not awake to object then," Haldir countered.

Elaneth replaced the blanket, a smile still stretching across her lips.

"It looks very good. Elladan and Elrohir were worried. We couldn't find any healing herbs, but it seems that Elven bodies do not need them as much as we believed."

"I feel well. Very hungry, but well."

"Hungry I can heal. We have some dried fruit, bread, cheese, and beef jerky."

The march warden cringed at the words "beef jerky." Elaneth shrugged. She didn't see what was so horrible about the meat. She produced the other food for Haldir along with a bottle of water. He shifted beneath the blanket and pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Haldir!" Elaneth objected.

"What?"

He continued to squirm around, struggling to contain his laughter. The elleth grew more panicked with every movement. The march warden found her expression extremely hilarious. His hip really did not hurt very much at all. The area was numb, which caused him a little worry, but he trusted his body's ability to heal. Finally, he leaned against the rock wall and stilled his movements.

Elaneth sat down next to him, her nerves frazzled. She pushed a plate of food into his lap and unscrewed the cap on the water.

"What did you find earlier today?"

"All clear. Three Germans operate the customs station. They probably think we have moved on."

"You sound as if it was easy to gather this information."

"It was," she laughed. "They are men. They would not notice a black bear stalking them!"

Haldir arched an eyebrow, and Elaneth cast him a strange look.

"What?"

The march warden shook his head, a smile breaking on his lips. She had his thoughts so twisted around that he thought he might never straighten them out. Try as he might, Haldir could not pinpoint the reason for Elaneth's change of heart. In April, they fought constantly about the virtues of mortals. Four months later, the pendulum of her thoughts swung in the opposite direction.

"True enough. When did you learn this skill for scouting?"

Elaneth pondered the question for a moment. "My whole life I was taught these skills, but I can't remember if I ever used them before …" She shook her head. "No, I don't think I did. I would guess that I really learned these skills sometime after I met Réalác."

Elaneth released a shaky breath as she said the name. Haldir said nothing because he sensed that Elaneth would continue. The elleth took another breath before continuing.

"He was the last King of Rohan, but he did not know that until I told him. He is the man who named me Heaven-gift. Really, I should have named him that. It was he who saved my life at Eryn Ellvalan."

Elaneth paused again. She did not speak for a very long time, and her eyes searched the ceiling of the cave as if a miracle from Ilúvatar would save her from the conversation.

"You do not have to tell me."

The elleth smiled ruefully. "I know. After all, I have refused to tell anyone for fifteen hundred years. Not even Thranduil knows the whole truth. In fact, he knows very little of the story. It is not that I do not wish to tell you. I just do not know how to begin, for I have never told the story before."

"Start from the beginning. The rest will come."

Elaneth nodded. Another silence followed as she gathered the courage she needed to tell Haldir her secrets.

"I was born when Rome was not yet fully built. The name given to me was Idhriniel, as I am sure you have guessed. I remember little about the Roman Republic, for I did not live there long. Men's lives were shorter in those days and our agelessness was often the gossip of the town. As the Empire gained more territory, we steadily moved further from Rome. We traveled to Ostia, Alexandria, Constantinople, Londinium, and eventually to Pannoniae where we made our home in the forested mountains. Eryn Ellvalan it was called, for the Caesar gave us supreme control over that land.

"We lived there in peace for only two hundred years. At the end of the second century, Thranduil and many of our people left Eryn Ellvalan. The Western Roman Empire was crumbling. Barbarians attacked every border and some even sacked the Eternal City. The descendents of Aragorn would not fight the Barbarians, for those men are descended from the Rohirrim. The Númenoreans and most of the wood-elves relocated to the icy wilderness of Finland.

"A small fraction of the Elves did not want to leave Pannoniae. Thranduil would not force anyone to leave Eryn Ellvalan, but he suggested that they choose another King strong enough to lead them, for Rome was weak and could no longer defend Pannoniae. The Elf they chose to be their King was my father.

"Thranduil and Adonniel begged my mother to come with them to Finland. They knew our forest would not stand long, but my mother refused. She wished to be Queen, and she was, for a short time. My grandparents left with sorrow in their hearts. They had lost all their sons in the battles between the fall of Gondor and the glory of Rome. All except Legolas, who lived over the Sea.

"The day they departed, Thranduil told me the reason he and Adonniel had decided to have one more child so late in life. He said a King without an heir was as useless as a bow without a string. He asked me to come with him and be his heir, but I also refused.

"Exactly one month passed from the day my grandparents departed until Eryn Ellvalan was sacked. And that event has been a recurring nightmare that I have faced for fifteen hundred years."

Elaneth relayed the details of the attack to Haldir. She did not mean to sound so graphic, but the words came unbidden. For so long, the ruin of Eryn Ellvalan had tormented her. She could not stop the words from leaving her mouth and she did not want to. It was in desperation that she spoke so candidly. She prayed that speaking the horrors she saw would erase them from her mind.

The hours of the night ticked by quickly as the elleth told her secret stories. Most of the narrative was broken by her tears and her cheeks rarely remained dry for long. For the first time in her life, she openly admitted the downfall of men and the pain it caused her. Haldir felt and thought many things while Elaneth spoke, but one thing remained constant. He held the elleth tightly in his arms and she laid her head on his strong shoulder.

"I followed Réalác through the northern wildness, but the sixty Elves who came with us followed me. Réalác knew the way to Finland no better than I. We wondered aimlessly for far too long. There are many grand adventures I could tell you about those times. Mostly, those times were pleasant enough. The Saxons were terrible people, and we avoided them at all costs. The Vikings were equally foul, but they left us alone if we gave them gold. And we gave them a lot of gold.

"For ten years we wandered. First, we went too far east and stumbled onto the lands of Attila the Hun. Then, we went too far west and found the North Sea. In the fifth year, the Elves began to lose faith in finding Thranduil. They called me Queen of the Wood-elves, although I did not want that title. The tale of how we found Finland is long and unnecessary to tell you right now.

"Eventually, we stumbled into a Dúnedain village, and they took us to Thranduil. We passed the years in Finland fairly peacefully. There were wars between the Finns and the Russians, in which we fought. But in the Arctic Circle, we were secluded from the rest of the world. For a while.

"The older Elves say that the times that followed our arrival in Finland are reminiscent of the days following the fall of Gondor. Ellyth and ellyn alike, whether they wanted to or not, went into battle. Even Adonniel wielded a sword. Those are what we call the second Dark Days.

"In the world of Men, time passes quickly. Soon, the Barbarian warmongers gave way to the Christians in Europe. Their history is quite separate from ours, for we remained distant in those times. That culture changed again. The time when men wholly forgot about Elves, dwarves, hobbits, and even the Valar is called the Enlightenment. Ironic, is it not? Then, when magic became science and Ilúvatar became a myth, we were free to enter the world of men again. And I did so with darkness in my heart."

The silence that followed the completion of her tale was immeasurable, for time is of no importance to Elves. Elaneth cried until her tears ran dry and even then Haldir did not release her from his embrace. The Elf said nothing because he did not trust himself. The proud elleth, crumpled into his arms, and tormented by memories, needed his support, not his curses about the men who had hurt her. So he kept himself quiet, offering her silent strength.

Though the Elves did not know it, the sun rose and set many times before they spoke again. The moon passed from waxing to waning, and the last days of July gave way to August. When they finally broke from their silent grief, another conversation began, inspired by Elaneth's story.

"Why then did you so adamantly defend men?"

Elaneth looked away from Haldir, fresh tears springing in her eyes.

"Sárëawë was right. I have hate in my heart. It festers and grows with each new evil man I meet. So I must fight for the men who are not corrupt lest I be consumed by my hatred."

Haldir nodded, pulling Elaneth tightly against him. "That is a war worth fighting. I know of a place that can cure your ailment."

Elaneth nodded sadly. "I think I have no choice but Valinor. Too long have I been losing this battle."

"Then have faith, Elaneth. The Blessed Realm heals all hurts."

A new light entered the elleth's eyes as she gazed up at Haldir. He looked so different to her now. His stern façade of the dedicated march warden was all but forgotten. She no longer thought of his beauty as broad-shouldered and muscular. His beauty was the gentle spirit tucked away beneath his warrior armor. His was the warrior who fed the prisoners of war, the healer who tended both friend and foe, and the soldier who defied orders when they were unjust.

Haldir brushed his fingers through Elaneth's hair and gently pushed it away from her face. Her eyes were swollen from her tears, but her beauty was undimmed in his eyes. He lowered his mouth to Elaneth's and claimed her bottom lip. The elleth wrapped her arms around Haldir's neck and responded with equal fervor. She always felt lost in his arms, like she was nowhere and everywhere all at once. They pulled away breathlessly, though they did not untangle their limbs.

"We must be breaking some law of the Eldar," Elaneth laughed.

"Yes," Haldir answered. "I don't believe I've ever heard a story of a Princess and a march warden."

Elaneth sucked in her breath sharply. She placed her hand on Haldir's cheek and turned his head towards her.

"I have told you, I do not own my title. I meant the difference in our ages."

The Elf gave a sound of agreement. "That too."

"How old are you?"

"I'm old."

"Really old?"

"I am the same age as the sons of Elrond."

Elaneth breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh! So, if I was as old as Elrond, that would have changed your feelings?"

Elaneth shrugged. "Sorry? You know, it is not normal among any race to be involved with someone as old as your grandfather."

A happy chorus of laughter echoed off the domed ceiling of the cave. Haldir nodded and wiped at the joyful tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

"You laugh at the oddest things," Elaneth said.

"Well, that is good because you say the oddest things."

Elaneth sighed lightly and leaned back against the cave wall.

"We're a good match then."

The march warden wrapped his arm around the elleth and pulled her closer to him. She laughed lightly and complied with is demand, lying against his shoulder. Through the slits in the bushes lying in front of the cave mouth, the Elves watched the stars twinkle in the moonless sky. Eärendil rested at the edge of their vision like a beacon of hope in a sea of doubt.

"We should move tomorrow," Haldir said. "How far is the town you sent the others to?"

"Five miles from the other side of the lake. Can you walk that distance already?"

The march warden nodded. "By tomorrow night, I will be healed."

"Then we leave under cover of darkness tomorrow night."


	28. Aftermath

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"**Aftermath"**

Legolas collapsed onto the cool earth, unable to take another step. The world swirled blue and green and stars danced in front of his eyes. Darkness threatened to drag him into deep sleep, but the black smoke billowing high into the air kept him awake. Soft footsteps echoed against the ground and a gentle hand touched his back a moment later.

"Legolas," Elrohir called softly. "Are you badly injured?"

Legolas made an attempt to shake his head. Elrohir must have taken that as a positive sign, because he was being pulled to his feet a moment later. He swayed with vertigo as the world slowly came into sharper focus.

Elrohir had sustained the least damage in the car crash and subsequent explosion. By sheer luck, he had avoided the spray of glass and hard knocks as the car had careened down the hill. Elladan had a long cut on his left forearm, but was likewise relatively uninjured. Blood had congealed around Legolas's left temple and bits of glass were still embedded in his face and shoulders, but nothing overly large or life threatening. Sárëawë was similarly wounded. It would take time and patience to patch them up, they would both heal quickly.

"There is a copse of trees on the horizon where I think we can find shelter tonight," Elladan said to his twin. "Did you manage to salvage anything from the car?"

Elrohir looked darkly at the burning car. Just seconds before the explosion, Sárëawë had ordered the Elves to run. They had done so, unaware of what was about to happen. The aftermath was almost as bad as the explosion itself. A ton of metal and rubber had blown apart and flown into the air. The cow pasture was littered with jagged metal shrapnel and strips of rubber tires. Nothing had survived intact.

Elladan sighed. "We should head for the trees then."

The walk across the meadow was slow with Elladan supporting a nearly unconscious Sárëawë and Legolas leaning heavily on Elrohir's shoulder. It took almost all afternoon to reach the trees, but the gentle song of the elms urged the Elves to come closer.

The sun had already begun its decline along the western horizon when Elladan eased Sárëawë to the ground. Legolas had recovered enough to walk without aid, but being the trained healer he was, Elrohir was not convinced that his friend was fully healed.

"We must hunt," Elrohir said quietly to his brother. Elladan's scoff answered his declaration. "You think it is not wise to feed our injured friends?"

"Of course it is wise, but we have no bows, no arrows, no fire. I think it is impossible."

Elladan turned away, peering into the trees. Elrohir rolled his eyes, having already located the running water that Elladan listened for now.

"Impossible?" he repeated, annoyance seeping into his voice. "It's impossible that you've not yet discovered the location of that stream. It is not impossible to hunt a rabbit with a knife, which we so cleverly kept on our belts, and start a fire with stones. Need I remind you how often Glorfindel made us start such fires in the High Pass simply because he wanted to laugh at our frustration?"

Elladan turned to his brother, irritation playing over his identical features. "Firstly, I do know where the stream is. I was only trying to determine if the water was sanitary." Elrohir stifled a derisive snort. "And secondly, Glorfindel always had a tinderbox?"

Elrohir laughed heartily at his brother's expense. "Yes, dear brother, Glorfindel always carried a spare tinderbox."

Several hours later, Elladan knelt in the center of the tree copse banging flint together and muttering curses while Elrohir jovially healed Legolas's and Sárëawë's wounds. It was slow work for both twins, as neither had the proper tools.

Legolas was propped up against a tree trunk, whispering softly to the tree in Silvan. Occasionally, after removing another sliver of glass from Sárëawë, Elrohir would pause and listen to the foreign Elvish tongue. The trees responded much better to the Silvan tongue than Sindarin, just like they responded more favorably to Legolas than to himself and Elladan. The wood-elf seemed only too happy to continue conversing in the old language.

"I thought the Silvan folk learned Sindarin when Oropher became their king," Elrohir commented.

"They did, but not before he learned Silvan," Legolas answered. "The royal tutors taught my brothers and myself Silvan. Although we rarely used it, it was symbolic of our dedication to Eryn Lasgalen."

Elrohir nodded. "Yes, we were taught Quenya for the same reason."

On the other side of the glade, Elladan gave a triumphant cry as the flint sparked and the kindling blazed to life. Elrohir rolled his eyes, turning back to Sárëawë's wounds.

"I think that's all the glass. Unless you feel ill otherwise, I think we're done," Elrohir said.

The Maia only shrugged. "I feel as fine as one can after a car crash. Thank you."

Elrohir hesitated to leave Sárëawë's side. No matter what he said, the Maia looked sickly. His skin was pale and dark shadows circled his weary gray eyes. He would have mentioned the Maia's condition, but Elladan appeared a moment later and thrust a dead rabbit at him.

"I started the fire, you can skin the rabbits."

He settled against the tree trunk next to Legolas, smiling inanely at his brother. Elrohir moved away, grumbling, and began to clean the rabbits for their dinner. The sun had fully set, but the fire provided enough light for him to work effectively, if somewhat slower than normal.

"Sárëawë?" Legolas asked tentatively. "May I ask you some questions that have gone unanswered thus far?"

The Maia shifted into a better position to look at Legolas, nodding while he did so. "Of course, and I will answer if I may. I wonder at what I might answer that Elaneth could not."

"It is not a matter of who could answer so much as who will answer. I have never known my father to speak evasively, yet he dodged my questions artfully. Elaneth does not even bother to conceal her trepidation."

Sárëawë sighed deeply. "I thought you would ask me this sooner or later. Go on, then. If I know the answers, I will give them honestly, but I must warn you that there are some questions only Elaneth could answer, and she will not."

Elladan perked up at the shift in topic, having ample questions about Elaneth as well. Like Legolas and Haldir, he had known the elleth was hiding something from the moment he had met her in Boston. Similarly, Elrohir scooted closer towards Legolas and Sárëawë, dragging the half-skinned rabbit with him.

"What happened at Eryn Ellvalan?" Legolas asked.

Sárëawë sighed. "Alas, the first question you ask is the one I cannot answer. No Elf who was present at Eryn Ellvalan when the Ostrogoths attacked survived longer than one year in Finland. Each and every one of those Elves faded. That is, except for Elaneth. What could affect sixty Elves so much that they faded? I cannot say. Only Elaneth knows the answer, and she has never told a living soul.

"I do recall overhearing a conversation that she had with Olórin once. She asked him how he had defeated the Balrog of Morgoth. He asked why she wanted to know. Elaneth answered that she had her own demons of fire and shadow to battle. That is all I ever heard her say."

"You mentioned that Mithrandir named Elaneth," Elladan interjected. Only afterwards did he realize how rude this was, but Legolas didn't seem to mind. "Why is it that he, instead of her father, named her?"

"Yes, and you've called her Idhriniel several times. Mithrandir is wise and has the gift of foresight. Why did he choose that name?" Elrohir added.

Sárëawë chuckled lightly. "Elaneth would be appalled at you all. Never tell her I am answering these questions. She'll have my head for sure. Yes, Olórin named her Idhriniel. Her father did name her, but only after hearing Olórin's suggestion. I cannot believe you do not know why he would chose that name. Shame on you all if you have to ask that. She has made some questionable decisions on this journey, but she has kept you safe nonetheless. If she had not insisted that we stay in the finest hotel in Rome, her friend could not have warned us about soldiers in our room. If she had not stolen a vehicle and bribed a soldier, we would still be in Italy within the enemy's sight. Even in this dark situation, we are hidden from Alatar and Pallando because Elaneth had the sense to buy a sporty car."

The Elves accept the scolding with dignity, but it did not curb Legolas's curiosity.

"What about my brothers? And my sister. Why did adar and naneth have another child so late in life?"

"Those questions I can answer. Your eldest brother Caledan fell in the Dagor Helcheth, the last battle between Arnor and Rhûn on the steppe in Russia. After that, the Easterlings remained isolated for many years. Faelon perished in Ithilien, defending what as left of Emyn Arnen. The line of Stewards was saved by his sacrifice, and to this day Faelon is counted as a hero among the men of Númenor.

"I think Thranduil and Adonniel had another child because there was a stretch of peace in the West, and a King, even an Elven-king, needs an heir. Your sister was called Aerlinn Sea-Song. She was born on the shores of the Aegean where the music of the Ainur is especially strong in the costal waters. She married Celebdil when she was young, only fifty-one years, had Elaneth the very next year, and died one yén later."

Legolas dropped his eyes to the dewy grass. "I am beginning to understand why adar and Elaneth would not speak of the past openly."

After several minutes, Sárëawë looked up at Elladan. "Is there anything you would like to know?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances and nods.

"Elaneth mentioned something in Switzerland that we have discussed in private throughout the journey. We are unsure if her wording was intentional or simply past tense, only indicating that Middle-earth has changed." When Sárëawë nodded, encouraging him to continue, Elladan asked the question he and Elrohir had wanted to ask for months. "Elaneth said that Imladris once stood in France. Does that mean it is no longer there?"

Sárëawë sighed. "I'm afraid Elaneth meant exactly what she said. Just as Eryn Lasgalen was destroyed by Easterlings, Imladris was burned to the ground by Barbarians invading the Roman Empire."

"But … but the Bruinen," Elrohir stuttered, appalled that their childhood home, the cherished refuge built by their father, was destroyed.

"The Bruinen, like Celebrant and Anduin, dried up long ago."

"Well, now that we're all in a thoroughly depressed mood," Elladan said dryly. "I think the rabbit is done."

Light, sardonic laughter rippled through the group, but no one's mood was actually lightened.

As Elladan passed around the rabbit on a spit, Sárëawë opened another topic that was sure to cause only more worry and sadness.

"In the morning, we'll have to leave this place. How close to recovery was Haldir?" he asked Elladan and Elrohir.

"He should not walk for two days at least, but knowing Haldir, he will insist that they set out for Konstanz before he is fully recovered," Elladan answered.

"Then we should count on them departing the cave tomorrow night at the latest?" When the twins nodded, the Maia continued. "That puts us in a very difficult position, friends. We are more than two days walk from Konstanz. It is likely that Elaneth and Haldir will beat us there, not find us, and head for Berlin on their own."

"But we cannot be that far from the city," Legolas argued. "We barely left the main road."

The Maia shook his head. "The time we spent off the main road was not very long, but I assure you, we are miles and miles away from it now. I was driving at least seventy-five miles per hour."

The Elves collectively sucked in their breaths. They had noticed how rapidly vehicles traveled, of course, but had never considered the actual speed. On a good day, even an Elven-bred horse could travel only ten miles in one hour. Traveling seventy-five miles in one hour was beyond comprehension.

"I estimate that we left the main road for at least fifteen minutes, plus the mile we drove from the cave. If I was going seventy-five for fifteen minutes, we are now almost twenty miles from the cave."

"We could not cover that in one day," Legolas admitted. "Perhaps with lembas and adequate water supplies, but not as we are now."

Sárëawë laughed softly. "I could not ever cover twenty miles in one day. I may be Maiar, but when we come to Arda, our powers are restrained by our physical forms. We are back at our starting point, however. If Elaneth and Haldir do not find us in Konstanz, I believe they will go to Berlin." The others nodded their agreement. "What then do we do? Do we make for Konstanz in hopes of meeting them? Or do we go to Berlin without going to Konstanz?"

"Why can we not look for them in Konstanz and then go to Berlin if they are not there?" Elrohir asked.

"All our supplies are with Elaneth and Haldir. Without them, we do not have much chance of reaching Berlin. We need to find Elaneth. She will have some way of gathering the resources we need," Elladan agreed.

"But if we miss them," Sárëawë argued, "we are even further away from our goal. We are relatively close to Munich, and I have reason to believe that we have an ally waiting for us there. If we can meet him, he can help us on this quest."

"What ally?" Elladan asked excitedly.

Sárëawë surveyed the Elves carefully, but finally shook his head. "I should not say in case our luck does not hold."

"What luck?" Elrohir demanded. "We're nearly been captured or killed from the moment we began this quest."

"And you're still alive," the Maia said firmly. "That is the luck of which I speak. Few Maiar have had such luck these last years. Eternal beings have begun weighing days as preciously as Ages. Luck only lasts so long, my friends. Trust me when I say that there is a powerful ally in Munich who will aid us if he can, but we must make all haste."

"It sounds as if you're already of the opinion that we should abandon Haldir and Elaneth," Legolas said crossly.

"Abandon?" the Maia chuckled. "I do not think anyone can abandon those two Elves. They are too headstrong and arrogant to believe that anyone could chose to leave them behind."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged nervous glances. "I agree with Legolas. We should meet with Elaneth and Haldir."

"Doing so would be putting ourselves at greater risk. Undoubtedly, we will be forced to fight Nazis. Hunting knives will do little good against machine guns, and if one of us is injured, we have no medicinal resources," the Maia argued.

"Even still," Elrohir pressed. "Warriors do not abandon their fellows in hostile territory. It is the code of honor we all took when he joined the guard in our respective realms. We have held true to it in Mordor, we will hold to it now."

Sárëawë sighed sadly. "All right, I will be candid with you. My powers left me yesterday night, as you know. My powers were all that held my physical body together. Very soon, it will dissipate into the matter that I created it from. I will become dust, my spirit will fade, and I will be like all the other Maiar who are trapped in the circle of Arda, unable to return to Aman. If we hurry to Munich, I may be able to gather resources for you to continue the journey. But if we return to Konstanz and do not find Elaneth, the three of you will be left utterly alone without any supplies, money, or weapons. Without any hope of success."

Ringing silence followed his words and cold fear gripped the heart of the Elves. Without Sárëawë's or Elaneth's knowledge of the modern world and languages, they would become easy prey for the enemy.

"This ally," Elladan began slowly. "He is surely in Munich and prepared to help us?"

"Without a doubt," Sárëawë said firmly.

"Then we must go to him."

"I cannot leave my niece to fend for herself!" Legolas exclaimed.

Elladan tried very hard to fight back his smile, but Elrohir was laughing too loudly for him to succeed entirely. "Legolas, it is not Elaneth we should worry about. She is more intelligent and cunning than any Elda I know, and I am including my father and grandmother in that. She has led us as well as any Captain or Marchwarden could have without even the most basic Elven magic. She and Haldir will be fine. We are the ones in danger now, mellon nin."

Legolas was not entirely placated, especially not when Elrohir doubled over with laughter, but he did acknowledge that Elaneth was more than capable of looking out for herself. He agreed with what Elladan said. Elaneth was a powerful Elf indeed, but not in any traditional sense. She did not have the presence or power of a Ring bearer, but she had managed incredible things all the same.

"It is decided then?" Sárëawë asked, glancing at Legolas.

"There are three against me," he grumbled. "We will go to Munich. We have no other choice but defeat and death."

They could not know that twenty miles away, Elaneth was crying on Haldir's shoulder and days were passing like minutes. The Princess and the march warden would not leave their hiding place for three more days, and if the Elves and Maia had set out at once and encountered no delays, they would have met Haldir and Elaneth in the lake town.

But every choice has consequences, and Legolas, Sárëawë, and the sons of Elrond had unwittingly made the wisest choice of many dismal options that would have certainly led to defeat. Very soon, Elaneth and Haldir would embark upon the darkest leg of the entire quest.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Dagor Helcheth**: Battle of the Bitter Cold, Sindarin.


	29. The Beauty of Nature

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

"**The Beauty of Nature"**

The third day of August ended slowly. As the last fingers of blue light vanished behind the horizon, Haldir and Elaneth prepared to leave the cave. Throughout the day, Elaneth had made several trips through the labyrinth of rocks to survey the actions of the German border patrols, the number of cars on the road, and the terrain. By the end of the fourth excursion, she had identified the best escape route.

Elaneth ducked into the cave for the last time and glanced around. The three knapsacks left by Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir had been condensed into two heavy packs that she and Haldir would carry to Konstanz. Some items, such as extra bedrolls, lay in a small pile off to the side. The fire was extinguished and the pit covered with dirt.

"All clear," she said.

Haldir nodded and rose to his feet. His leg felt stiff from lack of use and leaving the cave took longer than he liked. He barely noticed the wound once he had breathed in the fresh night air and walked around to stretch his leg. Elaneth saw the rigidity of his movements lessen and thanked Ilúvatar. When she last checked his hip, only the entry wound was still swollen.

They shouldered their packs and began their journey. They were still on the Swiss side of the border, which posed a problem. Elaneth held no doubts that the Swiss and Germans both had outstanding warrants for their arrest meaning that they would have to sneak across the border. Elaneth planned to travel out of human sight, then cross Lake Constance. That was a task few humans would attempt, for their endurance was limited and the center of the lake would not be guarded for that reason. At least, Elaneth hoped not.

The electric lights from the three border stations cast an orange light high into the sky, clouding the natural starlight. Scattered trees dotted the land, but most of the lake area was barren. They moved with Elven speed and silence, slipping through the shadows. Haldir and Elaneth walked in silence, holding their long bows in hand. The air was calm, without a hint of ill will, but in their present location that balance could shift at any moment.

Where the width of the lake was greatest, they paused to survey their surroundings more closely. The electric light was dim and black shadows spread across the water. In the center of the lake, a lonely row of buoys floated, marking the Swiss-German border. Elaneth peered across the water, her eyebrows furrowed.

Before them, a curved dock newly made from pine stretched for several hundred feet. Yachts and smaller sailboats owned by the elite of Europe bobbed in the harbor. Compared to the exquisite ships of the Teleri shipwrights, even the largest of these boats looked bland. Floating at the end of the dock, half hidden under the wharf itself was a small, scrappy rowboat Elaneth had found earlier in the day.

"You know," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "This lake is eight and a half miles wide."

Haldir chuckled lightly. "Have you never rowed so far?"

"You have?"

Again, the march warden laughed. "What else do you think there is to do in Valinor? One can only fletch so many arrows before it becomes a waste of wood."

"So you decided to row away from Valinor?"

Haldir shrugged. "The Teleri suggested it. All Elves need hobbies."

Elaneth returned her attention to the lake. She did not doubt her endurance or ability to keep pace with Haldir. Like all elleth before bearing children, Elaneth was as swift, strong, and resilient as any ellon. It was the lake itself that caused her to worry. It was freshwater, which eased her fears slightly. Nothing too horrible could dwell in the depths unless it was placed in the water by men.

"We must be across the lake by dawn," she said. "There are towns scattered all around this area."

Haldir nodded. "We will be."

Haldir slid his pack off and moved towards the water's edge to pull the rowboat from its hiding place. Spots of green and white fungi covered most of the interior of the boat, but it was strong enough to hold the weight of two Elves. After Haldir hauled the boat from under the dock, he hopped inside and held his hand out to Elaneth.

She took off her pack and handed it to the Elf. Haldir cast her a curious look, but accepted the pack. A moment later, Elaneth entered the water, waded out to the row boat, and jumped nimbly inside the boat. Haldir held one oar in his hand and turned to gather the second. To his surprise, Elaneth held the second oar. A grin spread over his lips.

"So strange, yet so fair. Tell me, what is the difference between a damsel and a heroine, Elaneth?"

An impish smile spread over Elaneth's lips. "Such poetry over something that is not of Lothlórien."

"I beg your pardon? I did not speak poetry in Lothlórien."

"Not to me, no. But Frodo Baggins remembered well your words about Caras Galadhon. The Red Book of Westmarch is one of the few histories saved throughout the ages."

Haldir did not answer for the sake of his own pride.

Floating on the lake, asleep and silent, were hundreds of ducks. The speckled brown and white birds bobbed on the waves, oblivious to the rowboat. A single duck paddled through the water randomly, never ceasing in his movements. The Elves watched the creature curiously.

Elaneth glanced over her shoulder and then at the approaching shore. They were a little more than halfway across the lake. The row of buoys was behind, marking the midway point.

The swimming duck turned randomly in the water, first going away from the boat, and then towards it. Finally, the mallard approached, paddling beside the rickety rowboat. It surveyed the Elves carefully with beady eyes before finally greeting them with one, loud quack.

"Mae govannen," Elaneth laughed, tossing the duck a crumb of bread.

Movement on the northern shore distracted Elaneth from the hungry duck. The water reeds and cattails swayed and parted as two dogs waded into the shallow water. Haldir paid the animals no mind. Elves did not keep pets, but humans were fond of the friendly animals. Elaneth, however, did not relax. Staring directly at them with glowing yellow eyes were two German Shepherds.

"If only Mellon were here. He would eat those pathetic guard dogs for breakfast," she muttered.

As if in reaction to her statement, the two dogs began barking loudly. Their sounds were quickly answered by howls from their companions further away. Not ten seconds later, the German, Swiss, and Austrian border agents were at full alert. Giant spotlights flashed across the lake from three directions. A chain reaction of roaring engines and sirens echoed through the valley.

"Shit, shit, shit," Elaneth muttered, grabbing her bow and pack.

She dove into the water, struggling to adjust her pack over her quiver. Her arrows floated away and mingled with the twigs littering the lake surface. Soon the metal tips and feathers would drag her carefully crafted weapons to the bottom of the lake. She released her useless quiver, but held tightly to her bow. A moment later, Haldir entered the water. His pack lay forgotten in the boat, but he managed to retain a few arrows.

The spotlights danced over the lake, searching for the Elves, because there were too many barking dogs to guess which pair began the alert. Haldir and Elaneth swam for the northern shore where noisy soldiers and barking dogs searched in vain, and dipped below the water each time a light neared their position.

They were at least a mile out from the northern shore. Even to Elven skin, the water was cold. The melted snows from the Swiss Alps filled the lake, keeping the water cool year round. Haldir and Elaneth continued to swim, neither uttering a complaint about the frigid water.

At last, they reached the shallows of the northern shore. When the soldiers and dogs passed, they emerged from the water, made for a copse of trees not far from the waterline, and disappeared into the canopy. Only Legolas could have spotted the two Silvan Elves hidden in the treetops. Not even the well trained German Shepherds could detect them.

The Austrians were the first to abandon the search. None of their men had been killed by the archers, and they retreated to the eastern shores of the lake less than half an hour after Haldir and Elaneth took cover in the trees. The Swiss forsook the search second, though they lost the most men. The Germans continued the search for another hour. By order of the Fuehrer, these people were to be brought to Berlin.

The two wood-elves dropped from the treetops onto the soft ground after all the men and dogs withdrew. It was a hollow victory. Although they had outsmarted the Nazis once again, each encounter with the men grew more perilous.

Elaneth pulled off her sopping wet jerkin and threw it over a bush to dry. Her light Elven cloak was no longer wet, but the rest of her clothing would take many hours to dry. Behind her, Haldir inspected his arrows sorrowfully. The fletching had dried in clumps, making them useless. He inspected the string of his bow, and Elaneth's also, both were ruined. He dried his sword on his cloak, but left it unsheathed because the leather scabbard was still wet.

He glanced at Elaneth to check the damage to her weapons. The elleth stood with her back to him, dressed in nothing but her leggings. The march warden found himself frozen, unable to speak or look away. Like all ellyth, slight curves accented her slender Elven frame, and her arms and back rippled with subtle muscles. She used her cloak to dry her translucent skin, unknowingly drawing Haldir's attention to her wherever her hands strayed.

The march warden turned away, commanding himself to steady his uneven breathing. He closed his eyes, attempting to focus his thoughts. The image of Elaneth's smooth back and gently flaring hips entered his mind. He opened his eyes, cursing silently. In the corner of his eye, he saw Elaneth's leggings land on the bushes. His thoughts froze again, like an animal caught in a bright light, he could not think of how to react to the naked elleth behind him.

He shifted uncomfortably in very tight leggings. With a defeated sigh, he stripped off his wet tunic and tossed it over a low tree branch. Like Elaneth, he began the process of drying himself while his clothing air dried. As restrained as he felt in his leggings, he had a feeling he would be more uncomfortable without them.

Elaneth glanced over his shoulder, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The proper, controlled march warden behind her was dressed in naught but his leggings. His strong torso glinted with water which he slowly dried with his cloak. Her eyes traveled down, taking in his beautiful warrior form. Like his torso, his legs were strong and muscular. Her thoughts strayed to his perfectly shaped, hard posterior.

She knew he had been watching her. The thought caused a ripple of excitement. She glanced over her shoulder once more, wrapping her cloak around her as she did so.

Haldir was standing naked in the moonlight. His perfect skin shone faintly through the night, radiating the light of Valinor. Exquisite was the word that came to Elaneth's mind, and yet, that was not strong enough to describe the sight of Haldir in all his majesty. She turned away, the beautiful image of the naked march warden burned into her mind.

"We should leave for Konstanz before first light," she said.

Haldir noted the reservation in her voice. Her thoughts had strayed to some other matter, and she could not quite control her focus. He made no comment, for he felt the same at that moment. He answered only with an affirmative grunt.

When Haldir and Elaneth turned to each other, they were both wrapped in their cloaks. Haldir sat at the base of the tree, hoping his arousal was hidden from the elleth, not realizing that his exposed chest drew her attention anyway. Elaneth's cloak reached from her chest to mid-thigh, equally distracting Haldir. The air hung tensely and both Elves suddenly felt the urge to begin the journey to Konstanz in wet clothing.

"Sárëawë will keep to the outskirts of town. They should be somewhere on the southern rim of the city."

It was late afternoon the next day when Haldir and Elaneth entered Konstanz. They passed most of the day walking the five miles toward the city in silence. Their clothing had dried slowly, but the smell of pollution and dead fish clung to them.

The citizens of the German city ended their days with the sun. Many shopkeepers ascended from their ground floor shops into their second story apartments after a ten hour work day. Life for the ordinary citizen of Konstanz ended at six o'clock, just as Haldir and Elaneth arrived.

The two Elves went mostly unnoticed. The occasional passerby nodded once and went about his or her business without comment. The Elves slipped into a small alleyway for a moment of rest. Elaneth shuffled through her pack, tossing out the soggy bread. The beef jerky was the only dry food. Haldir accepted a piece of the dry, spicy meat. It was better than nothing.

"What supplies are not ruined?" Haldir asked.

"The beef jerky and the bottle of water. The money will dry. All my fletching is soaked and the paste has seeped out of its container. The bandages and ointments in the first aid kit are also ruined."

Haldir sighed. "No arrows and no healing supplies."

"Sárëawë has his pack," Elaneth said. "He won't have fletching, but he will have other supplies."

"Then let us find our friends."

They stayed off the main paths of Konstanz, always conscious of the Nazi soldiers patrolling the streets. Given the number of hotels around the southern rim of the city, finding their friends would be a hard task, but not impossible. For hours they searched, approaching every hotel and hostel they spotted, but without success.

"Let's find a place to stay tonight. We can look more tomorrow," Elaneth said.

Haldir scanned the horizon dejectedly. The last rays of the sun receded quickly, leaving darkness in its place. He did not want to give up the search yet, but it had been at least thirty-six hours since they had slept. He followed Elaneth, trusting in her ability to find suitable lodging.

"We will find them tomorrow," Elaneth said, hopefully.

"Unless they have not come this way."

The elleth seemed startled by the suggestion, but she made no comment. With a glance at the setting sun, she entered the first hotel she saw, drawing out her purse.


	30. The House of Elessar

**Author's Note: **I'm posting this chapter even though I'm reluctant. This hasn't been Beta-read, and I'm notorious for making extremely stupid typos as well as more serious grammatical errors. I don't want to keep you waiting any longer though, since it's already been three weeks since an update. Also, if the British characters don't sound British, it's because I'm American. Forgive me, I did my best, but watching BBCAmerica can only teach me so much.

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

"**The House of Elessar"**

Colin Walker lay on his bed with his chin resting on folded arms as he lazily surveyed the book in front of him. The red leather was pulling apart at the binding and the pages were yellowed from age. Absently, he picked at the loose leather while closing his eyes and reciting the dates he had just read.

"Twenty-first of March … er, Gwaeron … Sauron is defeated …" The young boy opened one eye and scanned the page. He sighed deeply when he read the correct date. "Twenty-fifth of Gwaeron. Twenty-fifth, twenty-fifth, twenty-fifth."

It was the duty and honor of every member of the House of Elessar to read and memorize the Redbook of Westmarch. Colin currently had possession of the book, but very soon his cousins Toby and Michael would take their turn at studying it.

It wasn't the original Redbook, of course. That one had disintegrated into dust even before the founding of Rome. The book Colin read was a faithful representation copied by his great-great- grandfather Alistair Walker, which was copied from the book transcribed by Alastair's great-great- grandfather. In the years to come, the cousin who knew the book best would be allowed to produce two copies of the book, one in English and one in Sindarin.

Colin was determined that he would be the one chosen to copy the book. That was why he had chosen to spend the last day of the summer holiday locked inside his room instead of practicing archery with his cousins or playing rugby with his school friends.

He flipped through the pages of the book, giving up on dates for the moment. He decided to study the line of the Kings of Gondor after the War of the Ring.

"Elessar … Eldarion … Elros II … Eändrion … El--no, Andhred, who ruled for only one year, and then Elandriel his sister, the ruling Queen who conquered the Corsairs … " He lifted one eyelid and again cursed at the incorrect order. He repeated the names with his eyes closed, wishing that all of his relatives didn't have similar sounding names.

Colin sighed deeply as he shut the book and rolled over to stare at the cracks in the ceiling. He was never going to memorize five thousand years of history. He wished his father was home to help him learn the names of his ancestors, but Andre Walker was on duty in the Mediterranean. It would be another seven months before Colin saw his father again and letters only eased his loneliness so much.

In mid-September his Uncle Clive and Aunt Margot would be returning to Scotland, along with Toby and Michael. Colin would be left alone, without archery contests, without sparring matches, without tracking lessons, and without his best friends.

He also wasn't looking forward to going back to school. Nothing at school interested him nearly as much as the history of Middle-earth. He would have much rather studied about the oath of loyalty between Gondor and Rohan than the Treaty of Westphalia and about the ruling Stewards rather than Oliver Cromwell.

His mental sulking was interrupted by a light rapping on the door. A moment later, his mother's head appeared between the door and the jamb. She glanced around his room disapprovingly, and only then did Colin remember that he had promised to put all of his dirty clothes in the laundry room before lunch.

"I've got to make a quick trip to the grocer's. You'll be all right alone?"

Colin sighed. Honestly, how could she even begin to imagine that a boy who knew archery and swordplay couldn't stay at home alone for a quarter of an hour? "Yes, mum."

"Good," she answered. "I should be back by four."

She ducked out of the room a moment later, leaving Colin alone with his thoughts again. He waited anxiously until the front door shut and silence settled upon the house. He sprang from his bed and bolted into the drawing room, heading straight for the radio.

His mother had admonished him numerous times for sitting beside the brown box and wasting away the day. Colin knew that it wasn't the lethargy caused by the radio that she feared. She didn't want him to hear news of the war. She thought he was too young and too innocent, but he couldn't stand not knowing about the war any longer. Every boy at school thought he should know insider information, his father being an Admiral, but Colin never knew anything except the most basic facts.

He turned the knob, and the radio crackled to life. He fiddled with the tuner for a moment, skipping over the big band music his mother had been listening to. Finally, the familiar voice of the news announcer drifted out of the speakers. Colin settled into the seat beside the radio, listening intently to the man's rapid stream of news about the war.

"… and in the Pacific the Americans continue fighting the Japanese. The kamikaze pilots haven't deterred the American Navy, and earlier today it was announced that the Solomon Islands have been captured by the Americans."

Colin leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he anxiously waited for details. He had always wanted to join the Royal Navy like his father. His room was full of model battleships, nautical charts, and sailing equipment. His mind was teeming with the possible ways the Americans had routed the Japanese: the bombing raids, the torpedoes, the submarines, and the thousands of sailors fighting to defend freedom.

Just as the announcer began listing the causalities, the sound of breaking glass distracted Colin. His hand reached for the volume knob on the radio, but he stopped himself just in time. His father had taught him better than that. He left the radio on, but moved stealthy towards his father's study, in the general direction of the breaking glass.

Andre's office was dark and musty from being closed up for five months, but Colin didn't notice. He moved around the desk and silently lifted Andúril from its place above the mantelpiece. It was too long and heavy for him to use effectively, but it was the only sword his mother allowed in the house.

Colin edged as close to the wall as possible, without touching it, as he approached the conservatory. He couldn't be sure that was where he had heard the cracking glass, but it was the most likely place. He swallowed hard as he neared the door and licked his lips nervously. He'd never fought anyone for real before. He and his cousins sparred across the lawn, but the swords they used weren't sharp and no one expected the boys to ever use the skill in real life.

He switched the sword from one hand to the other, whipping his sweaty palms on his trousers as he approached. This was hard work, he thought, sneaking up on a burglar with a heavy sword. Finally, he paused in front of the conservatory door, hidden in a niche in the hallway. There was no doubt about it; someone was walking around the conservatory. The dark shadow passed in front of the screened door three times, lifting up potted plants, the door mat, and the watering can. Colin thought that was very odd, a burglar who looked for the key.

He shook the silly idea from his head. The burglar just wanted to make it look like he had been invited in. That way, the police wouldn't add trespassing to his list of crimes. Colin took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. There was only one thing to do. He raised Andúril high, took a running leap at the door, and kicked the lock out of the frame.

The conservatory door burst open and slammed against the wall. Almost immediately, Colin's shoulder dropped and the sword fell to his side. Meanwhile, the burglar (who clearly was not a burglar at all), smiled pleasantly at Colin.

"Well, the men of Númenor always did make grand entrances."

Colin gaped at the stranger. "You're … you're … But you can't be! … Are you?"

The intruder chuckled softly. "Yes, my boy, I am exactly who you think I am."

"Why are you in our conservatory? You could have come to the front. Friends of Thranduil are always welcomed here."

"Yes, yes, of course. But what if your mother had been home? I hardly think she would have appreciated me arming you to the teeth and whisking you away to Germany."

Colin's stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the stranger. "You mean … ?"

"My dear boy, our Elven friends face certain death at the hand of Alatar the Brown. Either we save them or no one will. Hurry! Get your dog; I think he'll be of some use. Then we must be off. Oh, and leave your mother a note." The stranger sat down on a plastic lawn chair and muttered under his breath, "I'd rather face a balrog than an angry mother."

* * *

Andre Walker sat behind his desk with his forehead in his hands. As much as he loved the Royal Navy and being an Admiral, the stress was unbelievable. In that moment, he was thankful that Gondor had fallen and he would never be called upon to act as King.

Missives from London and memos from his subordinates littered the desk, all suggesting different strategies. His orders from the Prime Minister were clear: defeat the Axis forces, keep the Soviet Union out of the Mediterranean, and protect British interests in North Africa. It was becoming a great burden to fight an open war against the Axis powers and a private war with Egyptian and Soviet diplomats, but Andre had his orders. He would not yield an inch of international Mediterranean waters to anyone but American battleships.

The way to go about protecting the Mediterranean was a source of contention at Central Command. Andre has just spent three hours arguing with Admiral Shaw about the proper strategy for sinking German U-Boats while fifty-seven of his sailors died. The bureaucracy alone was enough to make him scream, but coupled with it causing the death of good men was too much.

His gray eyes searched the room around him. Moonlight dimmed by the electric lighting in his office filtered in through tinted glass windows. Sitting so high above the main deck, Andre felt detached from the cause he was supposed to fight for. The black telephone, such an evil tool for delivering news, rested on the corner of his desk. Very soon, Andre would have to pick up the receiver and call London. He had a list of names to read to the Minister of War. It was a list of dead sailors, and a list of mothers' hearts to break.

In the corner sat a giant sheet of styrofoam with miniature air craft carriers and plastic soldiers stuck into it. He and Admiral Shaw had stabbed that styrofoam to death during the course of their tour of duty. They had moved ships and maneuvered submarines until the painted surface looked like it had been used for target practice.

A sharp rap on the door snapped Andre out of his morose mood. It wouldn't do for his subordinate officers to see him downtrodden. If the Admiral didn't have hope, neither would the sailors.

"Enter," he called, picking up a missive and pretending to read it.

Rear Admiral Shaw appeared in the door, illuminated by the orange glow of the lights in the metal corridor. His hat was off, tucked neatly beneath his arm, and he stood at attention. Andre stifled a sigh. He'd had enough of the man for one day.

"Come in, Rear Admiral. What can I do for you?"

Shaw stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him before moving to stand in front of the desk.

"A telegraph has arrived from London, Sir. It contains orders from the Prime Minister and instruction that you, and only you, are allowed to receive the message."

Andre stood abruptly and followed Shaw from the room. All the dark thoughts he had been pondering before the interruption disappeared as he and Shaw walked to the telegraph office. Sailors saluted belatedly as the two Admirals passed, but their delay was understandable. Andre and Shaw were rarely aboard the same ship, and it was a bit of a nasty shock for lower ranking sailors to suddenly see two Admirals barreling down the hallway. Generally speaking, it wasn't safe for them to be in the same place during combat, as one attack could leave the sailors without their senior most officers.

A young sailor called Perkins jumped to his feet and saluted when the Admirals entered the room. He was a mousy looking boy with bottle cap glasses and a twitch in his left eye. He'd probably never been in the company of anyone ranking higher than his drill sergeant.

"At ease, sailor," Andre said, returned the salute.

Shaw stood a respectable distance away, but Andre could tell that the man was anxious to know what news could not be read by a Rear Admiral.

As Andre scanned the memo, his eyes widening the more he read.

"Rear Admiral Shaw, send a report back to the Bristol that you will remain aboard the Pinnacle. You're to take command of the fleet immediately."

Shaw gaped at Andre for a moment before remembering his place and saluting deftly.

Andre walked to his office as quickly as he could without looking rushed. All he could think about was the missive crushed into his palm. It wasn't possible that this could be happening, but it had to be. The Prime Minister had sworn on the name Elessar that he had seen it with his own two eyes.

_Admiral Walker,_

_He has returned to aid us. _

_I do not say "us" in reference to Britain. I cannot say more in writing, but you know my meaning. As you read this telegraph, he will be entering your office. I personally give you leave from duty to fulfill his wishes. I must admit that the command of the Valar is a higher authority than even my own. You have been summoned to fulfill your duty as Heir of Elessar. _

_Fare thee well, _

_W. Churchill_

Andre pushed open the door to his office and stopped dead in his tracks. A visitor he had never met before, but knew by sight, was sitting in his chair, and Colin was perched on the desk with Mellon at his heels.

"Come in, come in," the stranger said. "Quickly now, before anyone sees."

"How did you …?" Andre trailed off, unable to find a suitable question.

"How did I what? Get into your office? Know when Winston should send the telegraph?" The stranger chuckled softly. "I have many secrets, none of which I will impart to you."

"All right. Then why are you here? Why did you bring Colin? What duty have I been summoned to fulfill?"

The stranger laughed again. "So many questions and not enough time to answer them all. Our Elven friends are in greater peril than they know. They go to battle an enemy they cannot defeat. We are going to help them. Before we can do that, however, we need one of those metal birds that your armies fly."

"Airplane," Colin sighed. "I've told you a hundred times. It's called an airplane."

The stranger waved a hand at the teenager to quiet him. "I'm afraid that the man who flew us onto this metal-bird holder--"

"Aircraft carrier," Colin muttered.

"--is not a good enough candidate to take on this mission. Only men who know the truth about Arda and the powers dwelling in it are suitable to join this quest commanded by the Valar."

"What has been commanded exactly?" Andre asked.

The stranger stood up from the chair, gravity etching lines into his face. "We have been summoned to defeat Alatar and Pallando. Hurry! We are needed."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yup, another one. I'll give you three guesses as to who the "stranger" is. I'd love to hear your ideas. It'll be a few chapters before you know for sure, but if you guess correctly, you might find out in a PM. 


	31. Laws and Customs of the Eldar

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty**

"**Laws and Customs of the Eldar"**

The sun disappeared fully behind the horizon as Haldir and Elaneth entered their hotel suite. The march warden had expected her to choose an inconspicuous lodging place, but like in Rome, she demanded to stay at the finest establishment in Konstanz. Royalty flowed in her veins, no matter if she claimed it or not. Only a Princess would fuss over sleeping in the finest bed in town.

The room was large, though only half the size of the Excelsior Hotel suite. The beauty of the lake valley enhanced the natural, rustic décor. It reminded Haldir of Eryn Lasgalen in the same way the Excelsior had reminded him of Lothlórien. Elaneth seemed to enjoy the nostalgia of staying in old, lavish hotels so much alike to Elven realms. A flutter of sadness touched his heart for the elleth. Never had she seen Lothlórien, Imladris, or Eryn Lasgalen. From her begetting day to the present, she had spent her life immersed in the world of men.

Elaneth dropped her pack on the bed and rummaged through the contents. She triumphantly pulled out the simple gray cotton dress she bought in Budapest. Her second look through the pack produced her high heels. She sighed in relief. Haldir shook his head, but a tiny smile tugged at his lips. She was a warrior and a lady. Thranduil must be so proud of her.

"You can take the first shower," she said.

With a nod, Haldir retreated to the bathing room. The porcelain contraption still amazed him. The Elves had a similar system, but less reliable than this human invention. He turned the knobs, not caring much about the temperature. When Elaneth emerged from the bathing room, a wave of steam came with her, but he did not care to shower in scalding water.

He shed his clothes and stepped into the shower stall. One positive thing about modern humans was that they invested a lot of time and creativity into hygiene. The tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, miniature soap bar, and complementary razor attested to that. The march warden scrubbed the shampoo into his short hair, washing out the lake smell. He never knew freshwater to smell so rancid. Elaneth said it was something called "industrial run-off," not that he knew what that was, but it didn't sound good.

He skipped the conditioner, as humans had not yet perfected that invention. It was lumpy and greasy to the touch, two things Haldir did not want in his hair. He dried off quickly and contemplated putting his leggings back on. The smell of dead fish lingered in the cloth, however, and he decided to wash them first. He pulled on the fluffy white bath robe and re-entered the suite.

Elaneth sat at the table, bent over a pad of paper. She scribbled rapidly with a device she called a pen. The ink came from inside the metal case, like an inverted quill that never dried up. The words were flowing Tengwar, but Haldir could not read them from across the room.

"What are you writing?"

Elaneth started at his voice and cast him a disapproving look.

"Just a few notes." She motioned to the newspaper. "The North African wars go badly for the Allies."

Haldir only nodded, not understand why that warranted taking notes. He sat next to her, waiting patiently for her to complete her flurry of writing. Finally, she put the pen down.

"Nice choice of clothing," she laughed.

Haldir looked down at the white terry cloth robe and smiled. "It's very comfortable."

Elaneth gathered her gray dress, jerkin, and cloak. She washed the garments, along with Haldir's clothes, in the sink. The putrid smell of industrial waste clogged her nose. The hotel soap smelled medicinal and bland, but better than the lake. She laid the clothes around the room to dry, then retreated to the bathroom.

Instead of a shower, she opted for a long bath. As the tub filled with hot water, she shed her leggings and tunic, quickly washing them in the sink as well. Elaneth lowered herself into the wonderful lavender-smelling bubbles. The hot water soothed her tired muscles and her eyelids drooped lazily. She counted the days in her head. Her last decent bath had been in Zurich.

She dipped further into the tub, her long legs bending to accommodate her aching shoulders. She remembered a time when bubble baths did not exist, when communal bath houses provided the only tub in the city, and when lakes were better than nothing. Still, she was not one to pass up a luxurious opportunity.

When the water became frigid, Elaneth lifted herself from the tub. The long soak had worked wonders on her tired body. She scooped away the bubbles, dried off, and wrapped the second white bath robe around her body.

"I feel like I could sleep for days," she yawned.

Haldir nodded. "Then shall we?"

The elleth nodded, moving for the bed. Like most European hotels, this room had only one bed. As she crawled into it, she noted that Haldir did not budge from his chair. For most of the trip, the ellyn had graciously allowed her to sleep in the sole bed without complaint. Haldir pulled a spare blanket over himself, reclining as much as he could in the hard backed chair.

Elaneth chewed on her bottom lip, debating with herself. She felt badly about always making the ellyn sleep on the floor or in chairs, but they would not allow her to give up the comfortable bed. It was entirely improper for her to share the bed. Perhaps Legolas could have slept beside her, being her uncle, but that idea was awkward for both Elves. But to share a bed with Haldir, not a relative and a march warden, was scandalous. A Princess could not share her bed with a soldier.

Yet she did not claim her title willingly, she chided herself, so why did rules like that matter? Haldir did not treat her like a Princess of the Wood-elves. In fact, he openly told her not to order him around. She shifted slightly, her thoughts drifting to his naked body. He was so strong and so beautiful. Underneath that bathrobe, he wore nothing. And he would be so close to her. So delightfully close.

"I can share the bed, Haldir," she said, scooting over.

Haldir arched his eyebrow, his jaw slightly slack. "I cannot, Princess. You know that. The laws of the Eldar say I cannot."

"If we were to follow every law of the Eldar, we would have been captured by now. Sleep well tonight and worry not over the laws of our people."

Haldir hesitated, two lines of thought tugging at his mind. Did he dare climb into bed with a Princess? He was the highest ranking soldier of Lothlórien, but that was still below royalty. The memory of Elaneth's perfect body and the soft gray Elven cloth sliding over her torso, her fingers tracing every curve of her own body surfaced in his mind. Heavy-lidded from exhaustion and wide awake with arousal, he was in no condition to think. Haldir moved from the chair to the bed.

He sank into the feather mattress and pulled the duvet over himself. Elaneth was lying closer to the center than the edge of the bed, but Haldir refused to read anything into it. If he did, he would do something most uncouth.

Elaneth watched him settle into the bed, her fingers unconsciously tangling in the sheets. His graceful, fluid movements stirred images of more intimate motions in which his strong and agile body could only be assets.

Elaneth relaxed against the fluffy pillows, her back facing Haldir. Her eyes searched the wall, though she wanted to look at Haldir. She pushed those thoughts from her head and attempted to focus on her weariness. It felt like days since she had last slept. For her own health, she needed to rest, but the dreams would not come.

Haldir glanced at Elaneth one last time before settling down to sleep. She was still and her breathing was deep and steady, so he assumed she was already asleep. The march warden lay down with his back to Elaneth. Sleep would be hard to come by this night with her so close. He twisted the little black knob on the lamp, turning out the electric bulb and settled back into the mattress. With a soft sigh, he tried to focus on sleep.

Elaneth woke slowly the next morning. The light spilling in through the window blinded her as her eyes focused on the room around her. It was rare for the elleth to wake after the sunrise but, judging by the position of the sun, it was nearly mid-afternoon. Despite the harsh sun, she felt well rested and comfortable in the feather bed. The soft mattress and warm blanket had allowed for beautiful, undisturbed sleep that left her refreshed and ready for the day ahead.

She shifted down into the blankets, wrapping herself in the duvet. The sheets, soft Egyptian cotton warmed by the sun, tempted her to stay in bed all day. Thranduil and his meetings could wait until tomorrow. Today, she wanted Naniel to bring her breakfast in bed. And lunch too. She rolled over, hugging more blankets to her.

She sighed softly, lying her head on a mound of pillows. This was going to be a glorious day.

Her daydreams of sleeping all day ended as the mound of pillows stirred. Elaneth blinked a few times, bringing herself back into waking reality. The sight of a hotel room, not in the Princess's chambers at Eryn Lasgalen, confused her for a moment. She looked down at her pillows which were strangely twitching against her. The lazy, contented smile slipped from her face.

She scooted across the bed, releasing the mass of pillows of blankets. The bed sheets flew to the floor and a nonplussed Haldir sat up, breathing heavily. He shot a curious glance in Elaneth's direction. His short hair was mussed and sticking out in all directions, and the bathrobe he had slept in came dangerously close to releasing its knot around his waist.

"Sorry," she murmured sheepishly.

She slipped from the bed after a moment of awkward silence and crept into the bathroom. Haldir shook his head at the elleth and sat upright. He was shocked, and more than a little aroused, to wake up with Elaneth lying on top of him. She had been half-asleep, but it was a nice feeling anyhow.

The march warden sighed and rose from the bed. They had a long day ahead. It wouldn't do any good to lie in bed any longer. He dressed quickly in his leggings and gray tunic. His jerkin was dry, but the leather was ruined by dampness and soap. He ran a comb through his hair, grimacing at his reflection. He hated his short locks. The more modern men he saw, the more he succumbed to Elaneth's logic, however. His warrior braids would have been a hindrance. And so would his leggings and tunic, but there was no solution for that. His suit was in his pack, floating somewhere on Lake Constance.

Elaneth emerged from the bathroom a moment later, wearing her gray Hungarian dress and high heels. She held her pack, filled with all their belongings.

"There will be someone by to clean today. We need to take everything with us, to be safe."

Haldir nodded. "I have collected everything in this room already."

They filled the pack with their clothing and food, but Elaneth kept the money purse with her. That was their lifeline, and there was no way to get more now. Haldir slung the pack onto his back and moved for the door.

"I can carry my own pack."

"I will carry it," Haldir said, casting her an odd look.

"I'm not a weakling, Haldir. I think I have proved that."

"You have. You are a warrior and scholar. That I know. But I am a dignified ellon, and I will carry the pack."

An involuntary laugh escaped her throat. "Oh, yes. You are really dignified."

"I beg your pardon, my Lady? I am not the one inviting soldiers into my bed," he returned hotly.

The smile faded from Elaneth's lips and her jaw set tightly. "We should look for our friends."

Elaneth led the way through the streets of Konstanz. She had every intention of walking ahead of Haldir, to prove her speed or strength or superiority. She wasn't sure which, but she knew her high heels prevented her from accomplishing her task. She cursed the shoes and herself. She knew better than to give in to bodily temptation, but she had asked Haldir to lie next to her. The sting of his accusation cut her deeply. From anyone else, she could have accepted the comment as deserved. It was improper, she knew that. Thranduil would be displeased, and Adonniel would scold her for days on end about the Laws and Customs of the Eldar. But from Haldir, who she considered her closest friend, the words plunged into her heart like a dull knife.

Haldir walked beside Elaneth, looking around the city for any hotels. His search was distracted, something Haldir disdained. Yet for all his training and experience, the march warden could not focus his full attention on the task at hand. The tense silence burned like a hot brand marking him as callous and unworthy of her affection. He admitted he had no right to throw such harsh and unfounded accusations at her. Before he came to know her, he had liked watching her simmer at his arrogant comments. But now, after he knew so much of her past, he felt ashamed to cause her any more pain.

The day passed painfully slowly. They moved from one hotel to the next without finding a trace of their friends. A more thorough investigation could have yielded better results, but they could not risk such an invasive approach. Elves sensed every presence around them and easily identified Maiar and fellow Elves from mortals. Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, and Sárëawë would have attracted their attention from miles away, yet they felt nothing in Konstanz.

After nine hours of unsuccessful searching, Haldir and Elaneth retraced their steps to the hotel. Their friends were not in the city, that much was certain. It was with heavy hearts they faced the fading light of the sun.

"They have gone on already," Elaneth said. "We waited too long at the cave."

"They had a higher purpose to fulfill."

The elleth nodded. "We can follow them, but without a car, we have little chance of catching up, and it will be all but impossible to find them in Berlin."

"And yet, that is our path. If our friends should fail, it is our duty to take up the task. Tomorrow we need to start for Berlin."

A sad smile tugged at Elaneth's lips. "You have no idea how far Berlin is from here."

"It does not matter. We must continue because the Valar have ordered it."

"No, Haldir, they did not. They requested that you find the source of evil and return to Valinor. In no way did they ask you to defeat an Istar."

"Nor did they ask Glorfindel to slay a balrog, but he did his duty as it came to him."

Elaneth pushed opened the door to the hotel room and flipped on the lights. She plopped on the edge of the bed and pulled her shoes off.

"It's always about valor in battle with you. What about the valor in admitting defeat?"

"We are not defeated!"

"Yes, we are! Did you ever meet Radagast when he was Brown, Haldir? Because I did! Brown is the third in the Order, but even that color is more powerful than two Elves."

"Why do you despair?"

"Because … I just want to return home. I want to see my grandfather. I want to give President Roosevelt a handshake and eat dinner with the British Ambassador. I want to go to Oregon and speak to the trees. Have I not undertaken enough dangerous missions in my life? Can I not rest for a while?"

Haldir sat gently on the side of the bed and wrapped his arm around the elleth. With a resigned sigh, she rested against his strong shoulder.

"I did not mean to cause you pain," he said quietly.

"I know."

A peaceful silence settled between them for a moment. Elaneth buried herself deeper into Haldir's embrace and the march warden tightened his grip on her.

"Please forget that I am Thranduil's granddaughter. My duty is no longer to my people, but to my grandfather only. I remain with him, working in Washington because I am his heir, and it makes him happy to have an heir again. I do not want to be your ruler, Haldir. I want to be your equal."

"Equal in mind and ability, but not by blood. I can never see you as less than a Princess. You have proven to me that you are an able leader. You have earned your title in my eyes, but I will call you simply Elaneth if you wish it."

"In that case, we both see each other differently than when first we met," she smiled.

The march warden quirked an eyebrow. "So, I am no longer a pompous ass?"

"Of course you are! But it's endearing now, whereas before it was infuriating."

"Never have I been called endearing," Haldir chuckled.

"Never have I been fully understood."

Elaneth's features were somber, but not stern or cold. In her eyes the march warden saw pain, grief, and strength, the marks of a great leader and warrior. But mingled with her strong fëa was a lonely heart crying out for the love and companionship she had found in Haldir. Her beautiful eyes projected to him the emotions he felt within himself: love and hope mixed with doubt and fear.

"Elaneth, we cannot. The laws of our people are clear."

"I doubt we will return to our people to face their disapproval. Did not Celeborn and Galadriel defy the laws of Doriath for love?"

"That was different, Elaneth. Never were any two Elves so made for each other at the Lord and Lady."

"Are you sure about that, Haldir?"

His eyes widened slightly at her words. She reached up and stroked his jaw with her fingertips, gazing intensely into his eyes.

"You know what you feel. The Eldar do not often err in such matters."

"And if we do survive this quest? If we are bound to spend eternity in Arda with your grandparents?"

"I have done worse things in my life than taking a lover before marriage. They will let it pass without comment for they cannot change what is done."

"Do you not fear their disapproval?"

Elaneth shook her head. "I fear nothing but loneliness. For fifteen hundred years I have traveled that road. I will not gladly turn back to it. What is the greater value among the Eldar? A joyful life with one whom you love? Or a dusty document in Tirion called Laws and Customs of the Eldar?"

Elaneth slowly brought her mouth to his, watching his lips part in anticipation. The fullness of her lips brushed gently against his mouth and then she pulled away. Haldir moved forward, wanting more than a teasing kiss. His eyes smoldered with need and, as he searched her sky blue eyes, he saw the same longing.

"A joyful life with one whom I love," he whispered.

His hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her to him again. She yielded to his demands as he claimed her lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. She fell against his hard chest, pressing their bodies together and pushing them backwards onto the bed. Haldir ran his hands along her back, pulling her tighter to him. Her soft body with subtle curves caused a familiar and wonderful stirring of emotions.

Haldir released her lips, turning his attention to the perfect tips of her ears. With his tongue, he drew one point into his mouth and sucked gently. She gasped, not aware that her ears were so sensitive. She had never allowed anyone to see them, much less touch them. Lost in sensation, an involuntary moan escaped her throat.

Haldir's passion ignited with her moan. He released her ear, moving his mouth to the soft skin of her throat. It was his turn to gasp as Elaneth's tongue flitted over the tips of his own ears. His lips fell from her throat as she sucked gently on his ear, unable to move for the pleasure of it. Before his eyes was the material of her gray dress bunched and pulled, revealing her small, yet perfect cleavage held by a modern underpinning made of white lace.

His body stirred with the pleasure Elaneth gave him and the sight of her exquisite body. He pushed the material away from her body, sliding it onto the floor in a pool of gray cloth. He turned over, pinning Elaneth to the bed, holding her there with his weight and his strength, but she did not resist. She pulled at his tunic and leggings and sent the items onto the floor to join her dress. She wrapped one leg around his hip, welcoming him. His fingers ran along the delicate skin of her thigh, causing a shudder to pass up her spine.

The overwhelming pleasure of the union sent their thoughts from the present moment to a higher plane of existence where their fëar merged as a symbol of their bodies, untied and twisted in the sheets. As they descended from the realm of ecstasy, they did so together, bound until the ending of the world, as is the custom of the Eldar. Though the night had not yet ended, a new day of love dawned in their hearts in which nothing would ever be as it was before. Tangled together in a secure embrace, they were oblivious the waking world.

The night passed quietly for most of the world. In North Africa the troops dug in their sandy trenches, sneaking a few moments of reprieve when they could. In the far off Pacific, the pilots slept in peace for a few brief hours. In Washington, D.C. President Roosevelt and Senator Greenwood ended their meeting with a cordial handshake and retreated to their respective homes where they would drop their titles and become weary and worried, like every other person in the world.

But dawn did not come undisturbed to Konstanz. In the dead of night, when all the lights dimmed and curtains were drawn, the air shifted. A malice unknown to the citizens of the lake town blew in with the breeze, bringing with it death and destruction unfathomable. It came in many guises: Hitler Youth, brainwashed into believing evil lay in the hearts of Jews and Communists; S.S. troops who pledged allegiance to an evil Istar they thought was their countryman; and Gestapo dressed in black who cared not for the tasks they must execute yet for the love of their sons, daughters, and wives did the evil Hitler ordered.

The targets of the malicious force did not stir. They slept in the peaceful land of dreams that comes after blissful union. When the evil cloud lurking through the streets of Konstanz finally touched their minds and roused them from their rest, it was too late for escape, too late to call for aid, and too late to save the quest.


	32. Walk Through Shadow

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"**Walk Through Shadow"**

Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, and Sárëawë left the cover of the trees at sunrise the following morning. They looked quite the sight in suits and dress shoes walking across the plains of Germany towards Munich. They carried no packs, and only Elrohir and Elladan had knives tucked into their belts. Twenty miles to the west, all of their supplies were sitting in a cave. As they passed the wreckage of the little Cabriolet, they looked longingly at the debris scattered around the field.

Legolas knelt down and lifted a twisted and burnt shaft of wood from the ground. His fingers drifted over the delicate gold Tengwar, thinking of the day when Lady Galadriel had given him the Galadhrim bow. It had served him in war, hunting, and gaming for over four thousand years. He slipped the wood into his pocket, unwilling to part with his beloved long bow. Sárëawë clasped the Elf's shoulder and offered him a faint smile, but said nothing.

For four full days they walked, pausing only for a few hours at night to set traps for hunting and allow Sárëawë to rest. The Elves discussed him quietly as he dozed beneath an oak tree. They were all three concerned about his rapidly failing health. No one could deny that he lagged behind, and his shoulders drooped as if he carried a heavy weight around his neck. In the past four days, his pallor had turned sickly and the light of the Ainur had left his eyes.

"He said we are still three days from Munich. I do not think he will make it," Elladan observed.

Legolas nodded solemnly. "We should ask him to set us on a straight course. Otherwise, we will walk aimlessly."

"I am reluctant to point out his weakness to him," Elladan admitted, looking sidelong at the sleeping Maia. "He struggles to maintain his physical form. I do not want to add another burden."

"Nor do I," Elrohir added. "But if he fades, we are without aid. Elaneth and Haldir are probably already in Berlin, knowing Elaneth's uncanny way of finding resources. They will not know that we are wandering aimlessly through southern Germany."

Elladan sighed heavily, hoping very much that sleep would fortify Sárëawë's strength and resolve to make it to Munich.

"I will mention it in the morning. For now, let him sleep. I think he will need all of his strength tomorrow."

The following day, Sárëawë fought just to remain on his feet. It seemed that sleep had not given him strength, but had instead robbed him of precious time. He resembled a prematurely aged man, stooped and gray with sickness and worry. Several times he stumbled to his knees and could not stand for many minutes. On one of those occasions, he traced the word 'Munich' into the dirt with his finger.

"This will be on the signs several miles before we come to the city. Just in case," he had said, trying to smile.

No one clung to the false hope that Sárëawë would make it to Munich.

Elladan's brow knitted together as he studied the Maia in front of him. Doubled over and gasping for breath, he resembled everything that Maiar should not: old, tried, and sick. He crouched beside his friend, and Elrohir and Legolas followed his example.

"We are on a straight course, and we now know the runes to look for on the motorway signs should we become lost. Elaneth has taught us ample German. We will be fine, Sárëawë. It is time for you to rest now."

The Maia turned his gray eyes on Elladan, studying him closely. "I cannot. You will not be able to find Fánaséro without me. He is a servant of Manwë and possesses great strength, but I fear that he is also fading now. Four days ago, I felt his power while we were halfway across Germany, but now he feels distant. Simply arriving in Munich will not help you anymore. If he also fades, whatever help he has gathered for you will have been in vain, because you will not know where to look for it."

"Then that is our fate," Elrohir whispered. "You are suffering needlessly, mellon nin. Go now to the spiritual realm where your kind so love to dwell. We will find a way to Berlin and to defeat Alatar."

Sárëawë nodded slowly. "You must do that, yes. Only then can I return to Aman, and I will greet you in the Bay of Eldamar when you return after the Istari are overthrown. But now is not the time for me to leave you. Long ago, when Ilúvatar showed us Eä, I swore an oath to Irmo Lórien. I will not break that vow by leaving you alone in Arda."

Wearily, the Maia pushed himself to his feet, but he collapsed before even taking a step. He hung his head, blond hair slipping over his face and blocking his eyes.

"Any oath you swore has been upheld," Elladan said gently.

Sárëawë looked up, his mouth open to respond, but the words died on his lips. His eyes fixed on a distant patch of sky where mountains met clouds. The Elves followed his line of vision, seeing the same glorious gold spot in the cerulean sky. They could not make out what it was, but Sárëawë sighed deeply.

"Yes, my oath has now been upheld. I will see you on distant shores, mellyn nin." A slow smile spread across his lips. "Until that time, fare thee well."

The Elves watched in awe as Sárëawë's face became as tranquil and beautiful as the gardens of Lórien in Valinor. As the life died in his eyes, a powerful wind swept through the field. On that wind floated a voice so pure and peaceful that it could only belong to one of the Ainur. It lingered for a moment, wrapping the Elves in a song of serenity and love, before passing on. The wind died as suddenly as it had picked up, and when the Elves looked down at where Sárëawë had knelt only a moment before, they saw only bent grass.

They glanced at one another, awed by the power in the wind and saddened by the departure of their friend. After whispering Elvish prayers, they stood resolutely.

"We make all haste to Munich," Elladan said.

Any mortal man would have been crippled by the painfully uncomfortable dress shoes, but little aches like inflexible shoes did not hinder Elves. The three companions sprinted through the grassy fields, all their attention focused on reaching Munich and the Maia of Manwë waiting for them there.

For two full days they ran, pausing only twice a day to eat fruit from the plentiful trees, but not wasting time by hunting or setting traps. They rested in the Elven way while still running eastward.

Nostalgia crept up on Legolas, diverting some of his attention from the task at hand. According to Elaneth, southern Germany had once been part of Rohan. Thousands of years ago, he might have run across these same plains with Aragorn and Gimli while looking for Merry and Pippin.

As night fell on their second day of running, Elladan slowed to a stop and motioned to the west. The sun rested on the horizon, blinding him as he squinted into the distance. They had run too far north, but had not passed the city entirely.

"Is it Munich?" Legolas asked.

"There is only one way to find out," Elrohir said, moving towards the city.

They crossed the plains carefully, keeping watch for any Nazi soldiers and staying away from the numerous motorways. As the sun settled behind the horizon, orange electric lights flickered on, and the fading light of the sun reflected harshly off the metal buildings billowing white smoke. It was a depressing sight, one the Elves had not seen since arriving in Boston. Munich was what Elaneth had described as "industrial."

"This is Munich," Elrohir said, motioning to a green sign in front of a small concrete building.

The Elves couldn't read all the German words, but they recognized the letters that spelled Munich. They didn't care to find out what the building was used for because a horrible stench like rotting fish lingered in the air. Elrohir led them away swiftly, trying to not gag on the stale air.

"I feel a powerful presence," Legolas said, a moment later.

The twin brothers stopped walking abruptly and turned to Legolas. He was the most perceptive of the three. Having lived in Mirkwood and fought the fell creatures from Dol Guldur, his survival had depended upon strengthening and trusting his perception.

"It is Maia and fading, but moving quickly as if in a great hurry."

"To find us?" Elladan asked anxiously.

"Possibly," Legolas answered.

"Lead us to him."

Elladan and Elrohir followed Legolas through the back streets of Munich. Sometimes the wood-elf paused at intersections, other times he rounded corners purposefully. After twenty minutes, Legolas stopped dead in tracks. The twins waited anxiously for their friend to report what he felt. Neither felt any aura that could belong to anyone but humans.

"He is gone," Legolas whispered.

At that moment, a powerful wind swept through the street, kicking up debris and caked dirt into the air. A voice floated on the wind, singing a song of wisdom. It lingered for a moment, whispering unintelligible words that nonetheless gave the Elves hope for a fleeting moment. The wind died suddenly, leaving ringing silence in its wake. It was unmistakably the spirit of Fánaséro, and they had been too late in finding him.

Elrohir leaned against the alley wall and hung his head. No one would speak for fear that putting their plight into words would only make it worse. They had abandoned Elaneth and Haldir in hopes of finding help, but that decision had only led to a more desperate situation. They had no supplies for a journey on foot and no money to buy train tickets. Without the map given to them by Mithrandir and detailed with Elaneth's help, they wouldn't be able to find Berlin. Even if they did manage to reach Alatar, they had no weapons with which to defend themselves or defeat him.

Elrohir's startled cry snapped Elladan and Legolas from their depressing observations. Elrohir was splayed against the wall, a look of abject terror on his face. A fluttering object, about the size of a pigeon, floated directly in front of his face. It was as gold as the noon sun, very much like the golden speck they had seen just before Sárëawë faded. Upon closer inspection, Elladan could see that it was a giant moth, and that was the reason for Elrohir's surprise.

"That can't be natural," Elladan muttered.

Elrohir cast a disapproving look at his brother. "All the more reason to get it away from me!"

"No, it is not natural," Legolas repeated.

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "As I said, a very good reason to get it away from my face!"

Legolas ignored him, approaching the moth slowly. "Mithrandir has mentioned these creatures in the past. They are servants of Manwë, just as the eagles are."

The moth fluttered over to Legolas at the mention of Manwë. The sons of Elrond exchanged curious glances as the moth bolted down the alleyway and Legolas moved to follow it.

"Fánaséro was a servant of Manwë," Legolas called over his shoulder.

Elladan and Elrohir hurried after Legolas, hardly believing their luck, but not daring to question it.

They rushed down side streets and back alleys, weaving through the labyrinth of Munich's streets. The golden fleck of the moth stood out against the black and gray buildings lining every street. It flew purposefully, never wavering or pausing to check if the Elves were still following.

Soon they left the industrial area of the city behind and entered an impoverished residential district. It looked like a rather shady place for a Maia to live. The street was little more than an alley lined on both sides by ugly yellow bricks and no sidewalk. Above them, clotheslines stretched across the street from window to window. The clothes drying were ratty and stained, as if they hadn't been washed at all.

"This is quite … depressing," Elrohir muttered, eyeing the black windows.

He was feeling very uncomfortable without his weapons, especially in this kind of neighborhood. This reminded him of the places where the drunks and beggars had lived on the streets in Minas Tirith. They were the parts of town that were never spoken about in history texts or songs, for they cast a bad light on the reputation of the city. Often the poverty of such places overshadowed the prosperity of the nation.

The neighborhood was in complete disrepair. Bricks and mortar were missing from buildings, sometimes so much so that it appeared the entire building would collapse if touched. The cobblestone streets became more uneven the further into the neighborhood the Elves walked until the stones disappeared entirely and their shoes sunk into the mud. The children running around were clothed in little more than rags and most were barefoot and filthy. The few adults still outside were herding their children into the apartment buildings. All the adults wore armbands like the Nazi soldiers did, except these were white with a blue five pointed star.

As the Elves emerged from the alley, they nearly gagged at the putrid smell. The whole place stank of refuse and body odor. A culvert was dug into the mud along the main walkway only a few yards in front of their feet. They cringed in disgust when they realized the use of the drain. Human excrement and rotten food sat in the open drain, stagnant from lack of water to wash it away.

"What is this place?" Legolas asked. "Who would live here?"

"Elaneth mentioned neighborhoods like these," Elladan answered, glancing around at the sad sight. "It is a Jewish ghetto."

"You mean these are the descendants of Bór?" Elrohir questioned, not really needing an answer.

Sorrow filled his heart as he remembered Erestor's history lectures about the First Age. These people had such a noble past. He could not fathom why anyone would want to punish them for that. Morgoth would do this, possibly even Sauron would, but that it was done by an Istar who had not been in Middle-earth during the War of Wrath was disturbing.

"Look. The moth has stopped," Legolas said, pointing to a door on the third floor of a ramshackle apartment complex.

Elladan and Elrohir followed Legolas up the rusty steel staircase, but turned to look back on the neighborhood once more. The sun had not yet descended below the horizon, but the world looked gray within the confines of the ghetto. There was not a single light shining from any window.

It seemed ominous that the place they had come for help looked so bleak.


	33. Dialogue with the Enemy

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

"**Dialogue with the Enemy"**

Elaneth started awake, her breathing heavy and her heart pounding in her chest. Malice invaded her mind, rousing her from pleasant dreams into the waking world. Her eyes searched the darkness for any sign of danger. The room was dark and the curtains drawn. Haldir sat beside her, already awake. Their limbs were still intertwined from the intimate moments after their loving making. The sensuous heat of naked flesh and passionate memories dissipated as reality settled into their minds.

"Something approaches," she whispered.

"No. It's already here."

He sprang from the bed and pulled back the curtain slightly. He looked out the window for only a moment before releasing the material. Elaneth hurried around the room, collecting their clothing that had been randomly thrown on the floor. They dressed quickly, feeling the press of malevolence grow stronger.

"What did you see outside?"

"I do not have the words to describe it, but it is the worst odds we have yet faced."

The elleth moved to the window, pulling her arm through the sleeve of her tunic as she crossed the room. A strangled gasp caught her in throat as she peered out the window. On the ground below, circling the hotel, were German trucks equipped with machine guns. A stream of soldiers poured into the front entrance of the hotel, and Elaneth naturally assumed, the back entrance also.

"There are at least a hundred of them," she whispered sadly.

Even as she spoke, the sounds of stomping boots echoed through the empty corridor outside their room. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but at the last moment, she steeled her emotions. Haldir stood facing the door with sword in hand, although it was a useless fight. His arrows were spent and his bow ruined, but he would die fighting.

The march warden turned from the door to face his lover. A sad smile touched his lips at her words. Her voice had changed while they had slept. It was sweeter and more melodic to his ears, but to other Elves, it would sound cold and aloof. It was the voice of an elleth bound to an ellon until the End. He did not hear the same change in his own voice, but Elaneth did. A jovial, harmonious tone replaced the usual nasal sneer.

Elaneth unsheathed her sword and tossed the scabbard onto the bed. The lovers stood side-by-side, swords at the ready, as the first Nazi soldiers burst through the door. They attacked in unison, piercing the first two soldiers through the heart. The fight was grossly misbalanced, one hundred against two, but Haldir and Elaneth fought fiercely, as Elven warriors are trained to do. They turned, swung, and struck in complete harmony, as if they had fought side-by-side for a thousand years. Ten soldiers lay dead, their machines guns knocked or cut from their hands before the tide turned.

"Stop your sword!"

The harsh German words rang through the air over the sounds of the fight. Haldir paid no mind to the foreign words until he felt Elaneth no longer fighting beside him. He cut down the last man in front of him and then turned toward Elaneth. She stood in front of a Nazi officer, his machine gun pointed at her. Her sword point pressed against his throat, but she did not stab and he did not fire his gun.

"Since you have not killed me, I choose to believe that Der Führer wants us alive. That means, you will negotiate with me or you will die," she said, in German.

The man could not hide his surprise. He had not expected her to speak fluent German. He quickly schooled his features and studied her for a silent moment. He lowered the gun from her chest, swinging it in an inverted arch, to point at the male Elf. From the corner of his eye, he watched the Elf-woman closely. Her composure slipped for only a second, but long enough for the Nazi to know he had made the right decision.

"Der Führer requests your presence in Berlin. You have been causing trouble for too long. You will walk from this hotel willingly or he dies."

"You won't kill him. Hitler wants to talk to him," Elaneth replied coolly.

"He wants you. Your boyfriend is a bonus."

A sneer tugged at the corner of Elaneth's mouth. "My husband is the prize, idiot. I am the bonus."

The Nazi shifted his eyes between the two, attempting to survey any differences in the Elves. His orders were to capture Elaine Livingston and bring her to Berlin alive at all costs. Her companions were wanted also, dead or alive. The coolness in her voice startled the man, however. Very rarely did a prisoner of war bluff so well. He found some truth in her statement. The male certainly looked far more valuable. In the dim light of the room, a faint glow surrounded him, almost as if it were an inner light.

"My orders state that you are the prize. He is disposable."

The soldier squeezed the trigger, enough to cause the metal to squeak, but not release the bullet. The sword slipped from Elaneth's hand, the clanging of the metal muffled by the carpet. She nodded to Haldir. He reluctantly followed her example.

"Good decision. Now, you come with us quietly."

A mass of soldiers surrounded Haldir and Elaneth as they left the hotel room behind the officer. The lower ranking soldier dared to sneak curious glances at the Elves, but the seasoned S.S. officers stared straight, machine guns resting on their shoulders.

The soldiers led the Elves to a truck in the middle of the convoy. Two more soldiers waited at the back of the vehicle, blindfolds and handcuffs ready. Haldir looked to Elaneth for guidance, as he did not understand any of the German spoken to him. The elleth submitted to the blindfold and metal restraints without a fight. The last he saw before the black cloth covered his eyes were two men lifting Elaneth into the back of the vehicle. A moment later, he sat beside her.

Twelve men guarded the two Elves, and not a word was spoken during the five hour drive to Berlin. The tension in the air grew with each passing hour. Haldir and Elaneth were well known among the German military. They had broken into the Reich Chancellery, murdered S.S. officers, broken into Palazzo Venezia, escaped from the Black Shirts, and murdered neutral Swiss soldiers. The men did not doubt that, given the chance, these assassins could kill them even before the first bullet left the barrel of their guns.

The convoy slowed to a stop, and the guards stood with guns pointed at the Elves. The soldiers from the next vehicle rushed to the back of the truck, ordering the prisoners to move towards them slowly. Haldir felt Elaneth shift beside him, and he followed her movements.

They were led from the truck into a building and directly into an elevator. Elaneth guessed from the echo that it was a large government building. The lift rose four floors before the doors opened again. The men whispered among themselves, secretly questioning their orders. In the end, they did as they were told. They released the prisoners' hands, deposited them inside a room, and locked the door as they left.

Both Elves immediately reached for the blindfold and pulled off the black cloth. They blinked at the bright mid-morning light streaming through the tall windows for a few moments. Haldir's vision cleared first, and he surveyed the room with trepidation.

Three months earlier, they had searched this room for clues about Adolph Hitler's identity. Now that they knew he was Alatar the Brown, the room took on an even more sinister quality. They were prisoners of an evil Istar.

Not a moment after they had identified their location, the door opened silently, only the rushing wind signaling the motion. Elaneth drew in a deep breath.

Standing in the doorway, half blocked by the glare of the sun, stood the man feared by most of Europe. He was short and thick, but neither stunted nor portly. He styled his hair and mustache short, both black and slicked down with styling products. He wore a brown uniform, decorated with metals and carried in his hand a small, thin walking cane. Elaneth's heart skipped a beat as Adolph Hitler, Alatar the Brown entered the room.

He approached Haldir and Elaneth silently, not even his shoes clicked on the hard wood floor. As he moved closer, his appearance changed. His hair grew long and unkempt, his mustache turned into a beard, and his uniform transformed into flowing brown robes. Lines of age appeared on his face, and his gait slowed as his back bent. No longer was the walking stick for fashion. It was a staff, large and powerful, forged from steel with a black adamant stone gleaming darkly with the Secret Fire.

"Mae govannen. Please, have a seat."

The Istar motioned to two chairs. The wizard eased himself into a plush leather chair behind his desk. He leaned his staff against the side of the desk, though within easy reach. Cautiously, Haldir and Elaneth sat in front of the desk. The wizard smiled through aged skin, but no light touched his gray eyes.

"Elaneth, you are well known to me. Elaine Livingston you call yourself, and you profess to hate me although you do not know me. Who is your friend?"

"I am called Haldir, formerly of Lórien."

A knowing and surprised look crossed the Istar's features. He nodded graciously, as if the news pleased him.

"Congratulations, young lovers. Although, Thranduil will be most displeased to hear that his only heir has taken a husband. Now, should he pass to Mandos, a lowly march warden will assume the throne, rather than his beloved Elaneth."

The wizard paused for a moment, searching the Elves for a reaction. He received none, but it did not change his mood.

"And where have you been hiding, Prince Haldir? I know of many Silvan Elves who remained tied to Arda, but I thought you had sailed West with Lord Celeborn."

His tone was a distasteful mixture between a laugh and a sneer. Haldir ignored the title of Prince, though the implication of binding to Elaneth suddenly hit him full force.

"In Valinor."

The wizard's mood sobered immediately. His happy features turned dark, and his lips pressed into a thin line. This meeting was not what he had expected.

"Why have you been sent?" he demanded.

"To find you," the march warden said, his voice impassive. "Did you think Lord Ulmo would not notice Ossë is missing? He came into the rivers searching for the river-daughters. I can only image he entered the Danube or the Rhine. That is how he sensed your evil."

"I am not evil!" the Istar shouted, jumping to his feet and slamming his fist on the desktop.

"You order the extermination of the Jews. The very people you once fought to defend! What is not evil about that?" Elaneth asked.

Alatar breathed deeply and eased back into his chair. With renewed calm, he addressed Elaneth.

"I will tell you that tale. When I am finished, I think you will see the extermination of the Jews is not only just, but essential."

The wizard leaned back in his chair and began his tale at the beginning.

"I was sent into Arda with Pallando and following Curumo. As it is recorded, Pallando and I traveled into the East and South. There we came upon a lone man wandering through the desert. We made camp with him that night, and he told us how he came to walk alone so far from civilization. He was called Calah, and he was the Chieftain of the Tribe of Bór. He assumed that we were men of Westernese, descended from one of three houses of the Edain, with whom his tribe had alliance in the First Age. He told us about the troubles in Rhûn, the wars among the Southron tribes, the power of Sauron in the East, and the plight of his people.

"He wandered through the desert, he said, because the Queen of Tears came to him in a dream. She said Calah should wander into the wasteland of Far Harad alone, without food or water. She swore that Calah would find salvation for his people in those desolate lands. The Queen of Tears is of course Nienna, and it was she who urged me to take Pallando to Arda.

"We knew then where our task lay. In the lands far to the East and South, wherever a man of Bór dwelt, Alatar and Pallando fought by his side. As a Maia of Oromë, I am gifted with great knowledge of hunting, fighting, and horsemanship. It was I who counseled the Chieftains in matters of war, but Pallando worked among the commoners. He soothed the fears of the children as their fathers rode off to war and grieved with the wives when their husbands did not return.

"For thousands of years were fought with the Tribe of Bór. Unceasingly did they pay for their alliance to Fingon in the First Age. In Rhûn and Harad, the name of Bór strikes loathing in the hearts of men as surely as Morgoth is cursed by the Elves. With the men of Bór we witnessed the Shadow of Mordor engulf the East. We fought with them when they resisted joining the ranks of Sauron's armies. We watched Barad-dûr crumble. Time passed and still we fought, always to defend the faithful tribe of Bór, for they were the last pure Easterling tribe."

The Istar sighed and stood from his desk. He paced to the window and gazed out at Berlin as if it was Rhûn and the people he spoke of stood just below the window.

"Time does not change Istari. Our mission, sent to us through Calah's dream, never wavered. But time does change men. The Chieftains faltered, succumbing to the pressure of the Easterlings and Southrons. Their tribes had united under a single banner. No longer did they call the land Harad and Rhûn. Now, it was Mesopotamia. The men of Bór assimilated, though we counseled against it, and for many centuries, they were forgotten.

"We remained with the men of Bór, always willing to help where we could. For a number of generations, the chieftains would not hearken to us. Then, a mighty leader rose in stature among the men of Bór. He listened to our advice to claim his heritage proudly. That stupid, half-mad fool."

Alatar sighed, shaking his head.

"You know his name, Elaneth. He was called Abraham, and he started a chain of events that led his people into further peril and woe. Not only did he claim the title of man of Bór proudly, but he decided to find the land where once his ancestors had lived. As I said, a half-mad fool. He led us through the desert in the vague direction of Harad."

Istar sighed again, shaking his head.

"But Pallando and I did not abandon him. Leaders were born and died on this hopeless quest to the find the land called Canaan. The land of milk and honey!" he sneered. "Did they not understand we walked through a desert? Fools following a fool! Milk and honey indeed!"

The wizard took a breath, regaining his composure.

"Slavery and starvation we suffered with these men. In Babylon and Egypt we toiled with the Hebrews. Do you wish to know how the pyramids of Egypt were built? I can tell you. I hauled boulders through the desert for my slave master! Old Pallando and I looked, yet strong and agile in body we were. Eventually, our slave masters led us from the fields and deserts into noble houses. You see, the Egyptians, being both smart and religious, saw that Pallando and I did not die, did not age, and did not complain about our labor. When the Pharaoh learned of this, he was terrified that he held in captivity two divine beings. Of course, of lesser divinity than the Pharaoh himself, but gods all the same.

"For that time, we were parted from the Hebrews. Three lives of men we lived as Egyptian gods and always aiding the Hebrew slaves as we could. Our path seemed hopeless, however, for Egypt was strong, and we were separated from the Hebrews. Little good could we do away from them. And then, the most miraculous thing happened. A baby was found floating in a bassinet of reeds up the Nile. He was a child of Bór and taken as a foster child by the Pharaoh's daughter.

"As he grew, we watched him closely. Secrecy of his heritage was of utmost importance, and yet, he held respect and power in Egyptian society. He was the key to freedom for the Hebrews. You know that story well, Elaneth, so I will not retell it all. Pallando and I escaped from Egypt with the Hebrews through the parted waters of the Red Sea. Do not ask me how it was done. That is not for Elves and Men to know.

"For forty years we wandered through the desert. To keep our sanity, Pallando and I joked about our horrible stroke of luck: falling in with chronic desert wanderers! But it was no laughing matter. Those years were long and hard. Do you know what that ungrateful fool called Moses asked Pallando and me to do? That spoiled, arrogant princeling told us-two Istari-to make sure the Hebrews' sandals didn't wear out!"

The wizard continued muttering curses under his breath for several minutes.

"That was the end of our time with the Hebrews. We did not leave them, though we were insulted by Moses. No, the Hebrews chose to leave us. Many times they attempted to kill Moses, but to no avail. They whispered among themselves that it must be us, Pallando and I, foiling their plans. So it occurred that in the dead of the night, two Hebrew men drove a dagger through my heart, and I flew to Mandos without waking.

"But Pallando and I are connected, as best friends and immortal spirits often are, and I sensed that he still lived. Mandos, hearing my tale in full, was greatly concerned because Pallando did not enter his Halls. The Keeper of the Dead and I beseeched Oromë to allow me to return to Arda, to search for Pallando. As you know, he agreed, and I was elevated in color. Brown I was made, though the color of Gray was still vacant."

A sour looked crossed his face.

"But Brown I accepted. In addition to my skills in battle, now I also had the gift of shape-shifting. In the end, this color has served me better. I traveled back into Arda to search for my friend. In Valinor, time moves slowly. When I returned to Arda, many years had passed here. The Hebrews now lived in a land called Judea, which was ruled by the Roman Empire. You know those lands well, Elaneth. You traveled through them many times, did you not?

"I found Pallando as swiftly as I could, but I was late in my arrival. For uncounted years Pallando had suffered. From slavery to imprisonment to poverty he had lived. On occasion, a youngling Jew would sense Pallando's kind spirit and offer him a loaf of bread, only to be scolded by his parents. It was in his darkest days that I found him, huddled among the outcasts, among the lepers.

"We rejoiced together briefly, but my anger took hold of me. The Jews would pay, I vowed. To the very steps of the synagogue I went, proclaiming my protests loudly. A heretic they branded me, a devil-worshiper seeking to amass a following."

The wizard turned to Haldir.

"Do you know what the punishment for heresy was in ancient Judea?"

The Elf shook his head.

"Tell him, Elaneth. I know you are familiar with ancient Jewish law."

"I am," Elaneth said, quietly. "It is death by stoning."

"Stoning," the wizard continued. "I was to be stoned to death by the descendents of the men I fought so hard to save from the Easterlings and Southrons. For a second time, the Jews sought to kill me. Many stones met their mark that day, and I still have the scars to prove it. My brown garments aided me then for I shifted my shape and fled from the hail of stones.

"We escaped, Pallando and I, but never were we the same. I made a vow that day. The Jews would pay for their ignorance and arrogance. By my hand, they would feel the sting of torment and death. I would avenge my own murder and stoning. I would avenge Pallando's torment. And now, I am. Tell me honestly that you still believe I am evil! I only seek retribution."

"I too have suffered greatly at the hands of men, but revenge heals no wounds. Annihilating an entire race for the sins of their ancestors will not erase your pain," Elaneth said.

Her voice was a faint whisper, restrained by her horror. Beside her, Haldir looked equally horrified. He could not find his voice to speak, but a thousand curses churned in his mind.

"Will it not?" Alatar asked sadly. "Well, you should know."

The constrained grimace faded from Elaneth's face, replaced by shock. Alatar's eyebrows arched.

"You didn't think I knew? You thought I would listen to you on the radio, demanding my demise, and not study your history? Yes, I know all about you Idhriniel."

The elleth sneered at him and leapt from her chair. "You know nothing about me!"

"I know everything about you! I know about the massacre at Eryn Ellvalan. I know that you escaped. I know the war crimes you committed in the name of your mother and brother. How did it go again? One arrow in the stomach to immobilize them, and then hack their limbs from the live victim?"

"Elaneth would do no such thing!" Haldir protested.

"Did she not murder three Germans who begged for mercy?"

"Only two," Elaneth replied, coolly. "And the first threatened to rape me."

The wizard nodded. "Fair enough. Such an act would kill your physical body. But what about the Ostrogoth boy?"

Elaneth set her jaw. "Do not speak of that."

"She murdered an Ostrogoth child in his sleep," Alatar said, turning to Haldir. "While the boy slept, she placed a bundle of cloth over his face. She held him down with Elven strength, though his mother pleaded with her to stop. She killed a child in front of his mother. And after the life left the boy, she left the mother alive to grieve for her baby son."

"He was not a child!" Elaneth cried.

"He was only eleven!" Alatar shouted.

Haldir, bewildered by this turn of conversation, could think of no suitable response. He watched in disbelief as Elaneth eased herself into the chair slowly. Her wide eyes stared at Alatar in regret and shame. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back bravely.

"I have atoned for my sins," Elaneth whispered, her voice hoarse.

"How?" Alatar demanded. "How can one atone for murder and torture?"

Elaneth lifted her chin, staring down her noise at the Istar. "Why must you know this? Do you plan on atoning for your own sins of murder and torture?"

"You will pay for you insolence, Elaneth."

"And you will pay for yours," Haldir stated. "The Valar will not abandon Elves in Arda. Soon, a higher power will break your spell upon the Barrier, and you will suffer the wrath of the Valar!"

The gray eyes of the Istar flared, and his fingers wrapped around his staff. He stood slowly from his chair, and a dark cloud gathered around him.

"Until that moment, Haldir of Lórien, you and your pretty bride will suffer my wrath. Schwartz! Sommers! Take them to the bunker!"


	34. What May Come

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"**What May Come"**

Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir walked around the tiny two room flat observing the contents in awe. It appeared that Fánaséro had only just arrived in Munich, because there was no furniture or bric-a-brac that made even the poorest house feel like home. Instead the flat was filled with rations and weapons.

Seven knapsacks rested on the kitchen workbench and were filled with dried foods, water bottles, and first aid kits. Next to the packs was a thick envelope overflowing with German duetsch marks, British pound notes, and American dollars. Seven swords, sharpened to battle readiness, seven long bows with quivers, and baskets filled with white-fletched arrows sat below the workbench. Neatly folded Elven cloaks with polished Eryn Lasgalen oak leaf brooches laid on top of seven pairs of warrior-style clothing: two sets of green and brown, one gray, two light blue, and two royal blue.

"He was prepared to go with us to Berlin," Legolas observed.

"Our entire journey to Berlin and back to Washington, D.C. was planned," Elrohir added, surveying the British and American money. "We wouldn't have had to take any unnecessary risks like in Switzerland."

The Elves decided to rest for the night in the flat. They planned on arriving in Berlin the following day, and they would need their strength to defeat Alatar, if it could be done at all. Elrohir discovered some bedrolls behind the packs, so they laid down to sleep.

Legolas took the first watch of the night. While he sat among the piles of supplies the Maia had gathered for them, he thought about the battle that would take place the following day. It was likely that one or all of them would perish in the futile attempt to defeat the Brown Wizard. Legolas didn't worry much over his own fate, or even over his companions. They were warriors and had been their entire lives. In the Oaths sworn to their respective realms, they had vowed that death for themselves rather than for civilians was noble.

It was his parents, and Elladan's and Elrohir's parents, that Legolas thought about. For thousands of years, Thranduil and Adonniel had found hope in the fact that their last remaining child was in Aman, safe from the dangers of Arda. It had taken an Age for Elrond and Celebrían to accept Arwen's choice and heal the wounds her absence in Valinor had caused. What would be their fates if Elladan or Elrohir perished in the battle with Alatar? Their parents had all lost children before. Could they handle another loss, the loss of their last living children? In Aman, Elrond and Celebrían could find healing, but would Thranduil and Adonniel sail to Valinor? Or would they grieve stubbornly in Arda?

And what if Elaneth perished also? How would Thranduil and Adonniel deal with the loss of their beloved granddaughter, protégé of Thranduil? And if Haldir fell with her? Rúmil and Orophin had never emerged from battle without Haldir beside them.

So much rested on this one battle and there were so few warriors. Legolas could only hope that Elaneth and Haldir were already in Berlin, waiting for himself, Elladan, and Elrohir to arrive. He reminded himself that lesser beings had defeated Maiar before. Glorfindel had slain the Balrog in Gondolin, and Lúthien had subdued Morgoth, but those were in the days when Elves were young and passionate. Legolas's hope came from a personal experience, one that he had witnessed at the Black Gate. Frodo, a simple hobbit from the Shire, had defeated Sauron. If he could find a way, then so could three Elven warriors. Legolas was certain there was a way to defeat Alatar, but he had a suspicion that only Elaneth could tell them how, and he wasn't entirely sure that they would be meeting up with her in Berlin.

The following morning, just as the sun was rising over the eastern horizon, the Elves made the final preparations before departing. Elladan drew back the ratty daisy pattern curtain and peered out the window. Several Nazi soldiers patrolled the streets, scowling and barking orders at the few Jews who still remained in the ghetto.

"We'll go to the train station?" Legolas asked.

A jangling noise just beside his ear drew Legolas's attention away from Elladan and the street scene below the flat. Just behind him, Elrohir was grinning maniacally and dangling a set of car keys at arm's length. Legolas's jaw dropped, but Elladan interrupted before he could find any words to describe his feelings about the idea of Elrohir driving a vehicle.

"No," Elladan said flatly, snatching the keys.

"How difficult can it be? Elaneth didn't have any trouble, and you saw the way Sárëawë handled the car," Elrohir argued.

Elladan cocked one eyebrow at his brother. "No."

"But taking the train will expose us to the Nazis again."

He had struck gold with that argument. Legolas stood back, watching with concern as Elladan appeared to actually be considering the idea. Just as he was about to protest, Elladan nodded.

"All right, but I'm driving the car. I don't trust that you've paid enough attention to how they work."

Elrohir scowled at his brother. "You just want to drive."

Legolas followed the twins reluctantly, very sure that this was a bad idea. Indeed, five minutes later, all three Elves were sitting in the black Volkswagen debating about where to put the key. While Elladan was certain that it did not fit into the radio unit, Elrohir was positive that it went into the cigarette lighter.

"We're going to die before we even get there," Legolas muttered. In a louder voice, he interrupted the argument between the twins. "Shouldn't we just take the train?"

Suddenly the engine roared to life, Elladan having found the ignition. Legolas groaned and strapped himself securely into the backseat.

Another five minutes saw the Elves back out of the car, surveying the Volkswagen carefully. The rear bumper was severely beaten, but the streetlamp looked all right. The fact that the car was now in a culvert did put a damper on things, though.

"I'm driving," Elrohir demanded at the very same moment Legolas again suggested that they take the train.

Elrohir snatched the keys and climbed into the driver's seat. After stalling the car three times, he finally managed to find the reverse gear, overcorrected the steering wheel, and backed into the culvert on the opposite side of the road. Slowly, and rather painfully with all the jerks and bumps, Elrohir managed to get the car onto the road. He seemed happy with himself, but Legolas was seething in the backseat and clutching the side of his head.

The first hour of the trip was painfully slow, as Elrohir could not figure out how to shift into second without grinding the gears. Finally Legolas pointed out the clutch and angrily barked instructions. Apparently, he had watched Elaneth more closely than either twin. The only other challenge was steering, which Elrohir never quite managed to perfect.

Seven hours later, the Elves sat in the car just outside Berlin, looking at one another anxiously, but not speaking much. Alatar's ominous presence hung over the city, bathing it in malevolence. His power had grown since last they had been in Berlin, and they were positive that was directly linked to Sárëawë and Fánaséro fading. The enormity of their task was suddenly apparent in ways it had not been before. They were not dealing with just a Maia; they were facing an evil Istar with powers beyond his color.

"If only Mithrandir had come," Elrohir said softly.

Elladan set his jaw and clasped his brother and Legolas firmly on the shoulders. "From the Halls of Mandos we will inform the Valar of what the world of Men faces. They will send Mithrandir then."

Elrohir and Legolas nodded resolutely. It was what every Captain told his warriors, what Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had told to the troops they had commanded in Middle-earth: their sacrifice would not be in vain. In their hearts, the Elves knew that if indeed they fell, they might suffer the same fate as the Maiar and remain trapped in Arda as disembodied immortal spirits. It was a chance they were willing to take.

"We'll do as much damage as we can before we fall," Legolas added passionately.

"How do we get into the Reich Chancellery?" Elrohir asked, killing the fiery mood, but asking an essential question nonetheless.

Elladan and Legolas shared blank glances, neither one having any idea. They had assumed that Elaneth would know what to do, but it was apparent that Elaneth would not be helping them. Even if she and Haldir had come to Berlin, there was no way of finding them with Alatar's powerful presence shrouding the city. If they had come to Berlin they were most likely already in Mandos.

"The same way as last time?" Legolas suggested.

Last time they were in Berlin they had entered the Reich Chancellery by cover of darkness, killing two guards in the process. They had been fortunate that night because Alatar had not been in the building, but this time, they needed him there when they attacked. Therefore, it was decided that they would not wait for nightfall, but go directly there, in the open and undisguised. He would sense their presence. Hopefully, it would draw him out, but if he only sent his men, then they would fight to the death trying get to Alatar.

The Elves pressed themselves flat against the wall of the alley, edging forward carefully. Legolas was first to spot the shining white walls of the Reich Chancellery diagonal from their hiding place. He counted three guards, two on either side of the door and one of the roof, just like last time.

"Three," he whispered.

The twins strung their bows silently, knowing that secrecy would depend on these men not having a chance to sound the alarm. Legolas led the small group forward, ducking into shadows whenever he could. Finally, they were within shooting range, but at an odd angle from the front of the building. He knew he wouldn't have any problems in that position, but Elladan and Elrohir were better with swords than bows. When he glanced at them, they had already notched arrows.

"We'll get the two by the door," Elladan said to Legolas and turning to Elrohir added, "I'll take the man on the right."

Legolas hesitated. "There is something amiss here. Have you not noticed that there are no pedestrians on this street? No cars? Not even a stray dog."

The twins glanced up and down the street, suddenly realizing the emptiness. In their brief experience, the area around governmental buildings was the busiest part of the city. There should have been businessmen with briefcases, long black limousines carrying diplomats to Embassies, and reporters scribbling furiously on notepads. But there wasn't a single soul on the street other than the guards and the Elves.

"It is no matter," Elrohir said, but he looked unconvinced by his own words. "We need to get to Alatar, and this will only make it easier."

They hesitated a moment, growing more uneasy by the minute. Finally, Elladan readied his bow.

"He's right. We made our decision to face death before we walked onto this street, we shall keep to it now."

A moment later, three Elven arrows whizzed through the air and hit their targets. The man on the roof disappeared, apparently falling backwards, and the guards by the door slumped against the wall before hitting the pavement.

Elladan led the way across the street and into the Reich Chancellery. He had only just stepped over the threshold when a wave of power nearly knocked him to his knees. Alatar was in the building. He unsheathed his sword and led the way through the wide corridors. Oddly, he felt no other presence besides Alatar's.

A tight knot formed in his stomach as Elladan started up the staircase. Instinct told him that they had walked right into a trap, suspecting it all the while, but doing it anyway. There was a way to defeat Alatar, but they had chosen the incorrect path. Very likely, Elaneth was somewhere in Berlin planning a better way, but it was too late for that now. Elladan was positive that they would not be allowed to leave the building.

The Elves passed empty offices and abandoned conference rooms on their way to the fourth floor. They neither saw nor heard a living a person as they approached Alatar's office. The unmarked door was wide open and the Fuehrer's office was empty. Elladan glanced over his shoulder at his brother and Legolas. They motioned for him to enter.

He checked the corners and shadows as he slipped inside, but the room was indeed empty. The three Elves glanced around the room curiously. They felt Alatar's power emanating from this room, but he was nowhere to be seen.

With a loud bang, the heavy mahogany door slammed shut behind the Elves, and they spun around to see Adolph Hitler grinning darkly at them. Slowly, his appearance rippled and changed until he stood several inches taller, grew a black beard, and wore robes of light brown. In his hand was clutched a black iron staff.

"You looked surprised," he said. "Did you not know that Brown is master of shapes and hues?" He moved across the room slowly, ignoring the poised swords, and sat gingerly at his desk. "You're very brave, but I'm afraid none of you were ever the brains of the military. Glorfindel and Thranduil took care of those matters for you, of course. Pity Elaneth isn't here to tell you a better way to attack me, although she's not in a position to give anyone any advice anymore, except maybe to Vairë. She possesses quite a long memory, just like the Lady Weaver. They'll get along nicely."

Legolas gripped the handles of his knives tighter, anger and sorrow taking hold of his emotions. He knew better than to lash out randomly, however. They had to wait for a moment of weakness before striking.

"Sit," Alatar continued. "We'll have a little chat. I'll tell you all about how your beloved Elaneth betrayed you and your quest. Or even better, about how she and the march warden ignored the Laws and Customs of the Eldar and bonded in an uncivilized manner without betrothal or ceremony. That will be an added bonus when I tell Thranduil about his granddaughter's death."

The ringing in Legolas's ears was beginning to block out the sound of Alatar's voice. He gripped the handles of his knives until his knuckles turned white and the skin of his palms pinched painfully.

"If you only want to talk, call in one of your sycophants," Elrohir spat. "We're not here to listen to you mock the dead or besmirch the honor of two noble Elves."

Alatar's eyes flashed dangerously as he leapt up from his chair. He held out his staff, all traces of joviality gone from his aged face.

"Have it your way, Peredhel. Tell Námo that Pallando sends his greetings."

With a wave of his staff, Elrohir was sent spiraling through the air. He landed with a loud crack against the wall and fell to the floor with a softer thud. Elladan's eyes widened in shock and fear when his twin brother did not move again.

With Elven speed, he lunged at Alatar. The wizard raised his staff with equal speed to block the sword. Just as he was about to use his magical powers against Elladan, Legolas's long knife slashed across the top of his hand. The wizard hissed and drew his bleeding hand tightly against his body. In unison, Legolas and Elladan attacked.

Even in such a vulnerable position, Alatar was not powerless. The fight raged all around the office. Try as he might to use his powers against the Elves, the wizard could not find a window of opportunity. When one Elf fell back from the fight, the other engaged him. They were forcing him into a defensive position, and it angered Alatar greatly.

The wizard twisted his staff around swiftly, hitting Legolas in the jaw hard enough to cause the Elf to stumble backwards. Next moment, Elladan was lying beside his brother seeing double of everything in the room. Alatar turned his attention to Legolas, quickly sending the son of Thranduil to the ground as well.

An invisible hand tugged on Elladan and Legolas, dragging them to Alatar and pushing them to their knees. The wizard raised his staff slowly, shifting his eyes to look directly into Elladan's and Legolas's. Slowly, a sadistic smile stretched over his lips.

"The magic upon the Barrier is sealed. Even the path to the Halls of Waiting is blocked. I shall have revenge and dominion in this world. There is no one who can save you now."

Suddenly, the door flew open again, but Elladan and Legolas could not bear to look at the newcomer. Brilliant light, so white and pure that it dimmed the light of the Sun, filled every corner of the room. Alatar jerked away from the Elves, shielding his eyes from the beautiful and terrible light. From within the light came a familiar voice that warmed the Elves's hearts.

"There is one who can save them, and he has come."


	35. Darkness and Despair

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**"Darkness and Despair"**

The harsh light of the bare bulb painted the room sickly yellow. It was a small space, only two paces wide and three paces in length. At the far end of the room sat a long wooden table, one leg slightly shorter than the other three, which caused the table to rock loudly against the cement floor. On each side of the table, a lone straight-backed steel chair waited for the next victim.

A single door, the only barrier between freedom and captivity, slammed shut behind the Nazi man called Wilhelm Schwartz. He surveyed the room with keen blue eyes. When he found nothing amiss, he nodded to his subordinate soldier and held the door open. The German man called Jacob, barely into his twenties, led two blindfolded, bound, and gagged Elves into the room.

The men worked quickly to secure the Elves to the chairs and then removed their blindfolds. Elaneth knew the use of the room immediately, and Haldir guessed its purpose just as quickly. The interrogation room was isolated from the rest of the Fuehrer's Bunker. In the maze of subterranean rooms across the compound, lavish and elegant rooms waited for Alatar.

Haldir and Elaneth sat facing each other, their knees only two feet apart. Wilhelm motioned for Jacob to leave and the soldier obeyed. He stepped between the Elves, momentarily blocking their view of one another. He cleared his throat before speaking in crisp, though heavily accented, Sindarin.

"Der Führer has given me orders to speak with you about a pressing matter. He suggested that you may not willingly oblige my questions. I have been given permission to gain the information by any means necessary. Do you understand?"

The Elves did not respond. Their eyes remained locked on one another, as if they were silently debating the question. The man shrugged off his irritation. He was chosen to question the Elves because of his patience, and he would not disappoint Der Führer.

"In your chat with Der Führer, you said many things that interested him. He would like to know how many Elves sailed from Valinor and what became of them. That is all you have to say: a number and a location."

Again, the Elves remained silent. Wilhelm glanced at the Elves, wondering if he spoke the language properly. They appeared as statues carved from the finest marble, shining like the light of the morning sun glistening on spring dew.

"We have caught another Elf. Is he a friend of yours perhaps?" Wilhelm asked.

He silently studied the Elves as they contemplated his lie. The male showed no sign of belief, but the female was distressed. It showed ever so slightly in the arch of her eyebrows and corners of her mouth. If what Der Führer said was true, and she had suffered torture before, she would be the easiest to break.

"Sadly, his fëa is fading. He was quite weak by the time we finished his interrogation."

The Nazi paused again, surveying the female. Behind her back, her fists clenched tightly, turning her knuckles white. He chanced a look at the male, but was disappointed. His stoic façade did not waver.

"Der Führer did learn his name, but that was all he would say. I believe he was called Legolas Greenleaf."

A small whimper escaped the female's throat. The male did not react, except in his eyes. A fiery hatred channeled at Wilhelm appeared amid the intense blue depths. Wilhelm's heart leapt for joy. Der Führer had been correct. The name Legolas struck a deep chord with both Elves. He approached the female and leaned down to speak to her.

"Tell me how many companions you traveled with."

Her emotions threatened to turn to tears, but she schooled her face the moment Wilhelm approached her.

"Legolas is not beyond help, Elaneth."

The elleth turned towards the Nazi, her jaw set firmly and fire in her eyes.

"Do not address me so informal."

The man stood up straight and squared his shoulders. A sardonic grin spread across the grim-faced male.

"What is so funny?" Wilhelm demanded.

Silence descended upon the room. The male would not answer. Wilhelm turned abruptly back to the female.

"My sincerest apologies, Lady-"

"Princess," Elaneth corrected sharply.

The man took a deep breath and pursed his lips. "Princess Elaneth, will you not help Prince Legolas, your mother's brother and heir to the throne of Eryn Lasgalen?"

"I am the heir of Eryn Lasgalen," Elaneth replied. "Legolas will return to Valinor when your Master is defeated."

Wilhelm clicked his tongue at the elleth as if she were a small child. "Now, now, Princess. Curb your tongue. Do you wish me to order more damage inflicted upon your uncle?"

The elleth set her jaw firmly. She once again became a statue of living flesh.

"I only need to know the simplest fact. It is a minor detail, really. Just a silly little number and place," the man said, trying another tact.

"That is what Sauron's emissaries said of the One Ring," Elaneth sneered.

Wilhelm furrowed his brow. He processed the words, but not the meaning. His confusion melted into anger at the elleth. Der Führer had said the Elves would be tricky. He obviously meant the female, not the silent male.

"You think you can confuse me with your nonsense?" he asked, as a forced smile touched his stern mouth. "You cannot. Now, won't you tell me this thing? It will cost you nothing to say. Silence will only cause you pain, Princess."

"Nonsense is obeying a half-crazed Istar's orders to threaten Elves," Elaneth answered.

Wilhelm drew a deep breath. The meaning of the word 'Istar' escaped him, but it mattered little. This Elf was trying his patience. Not once in ten years had a prisoner dared to dominate the interrogation.

"Answer me now. How many came from Valinor and where are they?"

The Elves remained impassive. They stared at each other, as if Wilhelm did not exist. The man tightened his jaw, and his eyes danced between the two Elves. He would not be made a fool by two prisoners.

"Last chance, Elaneth. Tell me or I begin to extract the information I need."

The man stared hard the elleth, but she did not budge under his gaze. This case was unlike any Wilhelm had dealt with before. No perspiration dotted her brow, no tears stained her cheeks, and she did not fidget under his scrutiny. From his coat pocket, Wilhelm pulled a long, sleek dagger. The hilt was heavy silver and gold Tengwar script decorated the blade. The male stirred at the sight of the dagger. Wilhelm knew he had lost that weapon on the voyage from America to England. A S.S. man had jumped over the side of the ship with the dagger still in his arm.

Wilhelm approached Elaneth, holding the dagger for her to examine. The cold blade glinted in the dim electric light. Elaneth noticed the sharp edge of Haldir's weapon, but she did not flinch. The man pressed the dagger point into the hollow of her throat, drawing a drop of blood. He glanced up into the elleth's eyes, expecting to see weakness and fear. He saw neither of those emotions.

Her eyes, light and blue as the spring sky after a fresh rain shower, burned with intense wisdom that seared his soul. He found that he could not look into her eyes for more than a few seconds without feeling stripped bare and violated. The man pulled the dagger away from her throat, cursing in German under his breath.

He spun around, pointing the dagger at Haldir. He glanced over his shoulder at Elaneth. No longer did the elleth resemble marble. Her distress played clearly across her face. Wilhelm held the dagger against Haldir's throat.

"How many Elves, Elaneth? Where are they?" the man demanded.

Elaneth's eyes darted from Wilhelm to the dagger and back. Cold fear gripped her heart. For a moment, she could not react. Pain and death she was ready to accept, but not for another person. Especially not Haldir.

"Don't tell him!" Haldir ordered.

"So, he does have a voice," the Nazi chuckled. "Now, Elaneth, tell me or your pretty lover dies."

The elleth opened and shut her mouth several times. The man pushed the dagger closer to Haldir's throat.

"Do not betray our quest," Haldir ordered.

Wilhelm pressed the cold blade against the Elf's throat, effectively cutting of his speech. Elaneth's eyes, wide with fear and unshed tears, frantically searched him for any sign of a bluff. The stern man glared at her, his patience waning. His fingers tightened around the dagger hilt, and his wrist flexed.

"Four!" Elaneth cried. "There were four, including Haldir. I don't know where they are. We were supposed to meet them in Konstanz, but they were not there."

Wilhelm removed the blade from Haldir's throat and nodded at Elaneth. Across from her, Haldir glared at her with unconcealed disappointment. The elleth lowered her eyes to the gray concrete floor.

"Very good, Elaneth," the man said, with a smile. "You have helped Der Führer very much, and he will not forget it."

Wilhelm laid the dagger on the table, his back to the Elves. He restrained a sigh. Getting the tiniest bit of information from these Elves was a harrowing experience. Something did not sit right with him. For ten years he had interrogated and tortured countless prisoners. Pure intuition told him that the information Der Führer sought could only be learned from the male, but it would have to wait for tomorrow.

He moved to the door and knocked twice. Five S.S. soldiers appeared in front of him and saluted.

"Take them to their cells."

The prison ward of the Fuehrer's Bunker smelled like mold and excrement. Elaneth's eyes watered in agitation as the guards pushed her roughly into a small cell six feet across the four feet deep. She felt like she was in a cage, like a domesticated dog locked up watching its owner dancing around the drawing room. People had been scared in these cells. The place reeked of terror and its essence seeped into the Elves' souls.

The guards retreated to the end of the corridor, leaving Elaneth and Haldir in the dank cells alone. The aisle separating their cages was less than four feet across, but it felt like a hundred feet with vertical bars between them. Elaneth gazed at Haldir through the hair in her eyes, unwilling to look at him directly, but feeling the need to watch him all the same.

After several minutes, she sank down onto the floor. Haldir stood proudly, refusing to admit to being disheartened. She didn't care anymore. She had proved her cowardice by giving into Wilhelm's threats. But what could she do really? She loved Haldir. She couldn't bear to be separated from him so soon after their union. A soft sigh escaped her throat as darker thoughts took over her mind. She might not have a choice. Soon, the Germans would kill one of them. It was only a matter of who and when.

Haldir peered through the bars at Elaneth. She was slumped down on the ground, staring at the floor with her hair in her eyes. He couldn't help but feel angry at her, but he also felt something else tugging at his heart. It was a soft whisper, like the rustling of leaves in a spring wind, telling him that he should forget his anger because she had just sacrificed her pride for him. He could think of only one place that that voice could come from, and it unsettled him and comforted him at the same time. It was the intangible bond they had created, the connection of their souls. Underneath his own emotions, he knew what Elaneth was feeling and why.

He eased himself onto the floor slowly, leaning against the wall just like Elaneth. She looked up at him, questions reflecting her eyes. He was sure that she felt his anger and suddenly felt no need to scold her or yell at her. He reached through the bars and Elaneth did the same until their hands met in the aisle.

"I love you, Haldir. In life and death, know that. I only prefer to love you in life."

"And I you."

No other words were spoken that night. They fell into fitful sleeps, their fingers still intertwined in the center aisle.

* * *

"Who are the other three Elves?" Wilhelm asked.

The male Elf gapped at him, but Elaneth kept her eyes lowered to the ground. He moved over to Elaneth and grasped her jaw in his hand. He jerked her head up, forcing her to look at him.

"Give me their names," he demanded coolly.

"I have done enough damage. I'll say no more," Elaneth stated flatly.

"Tell me or you will pay for it."

"Threatening to kill me will grow old after awhile," Haldir said.

Wilhelm slowly turned to the Elf. "Which is why I will not be making that threat again, march warden. I deem that you know more than Elaneth. Therefore, it will be you talking next."

Haldir scoffed at the man.

"Nothing can make you talk?" Wilhelm asked arrogantly. "I think I know something that can."

He walked to the metal door and knocked twice. Six Nazis entered the room. They were unarmed except for the most basic tools. The door shut with a slam and the sound of more guards moving into place in front of the door echoed through the underground tunnels. Wilhelm approached Elaneth while his subordinates prepared the equipment.

"Will he talk? Do you think? Are you important enough to him? Or will he let me kill you slowly?"

Elaneth set her jaw, but did not answer the man. A soldier handed Wilhelm a bottle filled with chalky liquid. He turned to face Haldir.

"Did any others not of Elf-kind come with you?"

The march warden stared at him, his eyes and face hard. The Nazi turned back to Elaneth and unscrewed the cap of the bottle. Steam rose from the glass vial.

"What is this, Elaneth?" he asked.

"It looks like milk."

"It does. Smell it."

The elleth sniffed the contents of the bottle. She drew away, her eyes wide with disbelief and fear. The man smiled.

"Tell your lover what this is, if there is an Elvish word for it."

"There is not. In English, it is liquefied potassium hydroxide," Elaneth said.

The words meant nothing to Haldir, but the uneven timbre of Elaneth's voice alarmed him. Wilhelm noted the confusion and worry in Haldir's eye.

"Now, tell him what potassium hydroxide is."

"It burns anything it touches," the elleth said.

"You should have paid better attention in Chemistry class, Elaneth. Your answer is only half correct, but it's no matter. It will, indeed, burn flesh."

A wicked smile pricked the corners of his mouth. Haldir sat up straighter, lifting his chin high.

"I do not fear pain."

The man nodded. "That is very noble of you to say considering that it is not you who will feel the pain."

He handed the bottle to a subordinate officer. The younger man approached Elaneth while three other soldiers moved behind her, each placing two hands firmly on her body to hold her down. The elleth shifted in her chair in a futile attempt to escape the liquid base. Across the room, Haldir glanced wide-eyed between Elaneth and Wilhelm.

"Do not harm her. She does not know the information you seek."

The man nodded. "True. She does not. I learned many things from our conversation yesterday. You take great pride in your status as march warden. I think you would welcome death by torture before uttering a helpful word to the enemy. Yet, I cannot let you die before I learn some very important information. Even the most courageous warrior can be broken if the interrogator knows his weakness." The man leaned close, almost whispering in Haldir's ear. "I have found your weakness."

"Love does not make every male weak," Haldir answered grimly.

"I do not speak of love. I speak of injustice. For every moment you remain silent, Elaneth will feel a year of pain. Do you understand me, march warden?"

"I hear the meaning hidden between spoken words. You are a coward. You do not dare to challenge an ellon so you bully an elleth instead."

"I will not bandy words with you any longer. Tell me if any others not of Elf-kind came into Germany."

Haldir set his jaw and defiantly lifted his chin. Wilhelm nodded to the soldiers.

Three hours later, Elaneth lay unconscious on the cold stone floor of the subterranean jail cell. Across the way, Haldir leaned against the bars, watching her chest rise and fall. It was the only sign he had that she was still alive, and it wasn't much comfort. He reminded himself that he had to remain as detached as possible. Aloofness was the same as strength for a warrior, and he must remain strong.

A shadow darkened the already dreary prison cell, and Haldir turned to watch Wilhelm approach him. The steady footfalls of the interrogator echoed off the cement. The German's face was cold and impassive, and Haldir knew why the man had come. He silently prayed to Illúvatar for strength and serenity enough to outwit the man and elude his tactics.

"I hear the two of you have recently bonded in the Elven way," Wilhelm began. When Haldir did not respond, he continued. "Pretty poor way to honor your vows, don't you think? Allowing her to be burned with acid? She was willing to betray her friends to spare your life. I wonder how she'll feel the next time she looks at you and remembers how you said nothing while her flesh burned. Burning, such an interesting thing, isn't it? Elaneth has been burned with acid, and others … why her own mother and brother … were burned with fire. I'll bet she's having terrible nightmares … Don't you?"

Haldir listened to all of this in abject horror, although very little emotion showed on his face or in his eyes. Wilhelm had made his point, and try as he might to stay calm, the German had succeeded in planting seeds of doubt and guilt in Haldir's heart.

"I must say, she's a wonderfully brave woman. She's been through a lot, but she hasn't broken. Der Führer never mentioned the strength of will Elven-women possess." He turned towards Haldir, his cold eyes full of malice. "But he did mention one weakness all married Elven-women share. You will talk tomorrow, Haldir, or my soldiers will enjoy your wife until her spirit leaves her body."

Elaneth woke from her fevered dreams in the dead of night. Her shoulder was on fire, but her Elven body was already healing itself. The world looked hazy without ambient light, but her Elven-sight cut through the blackness of the prison. She rolled her head to the side to look at Haldir. He was slumped against the cement cell wall, his chin resting on his chest and golden hair obscuring his face.

He glanced up at her, his keen eyes studying her through the pitch dark. Their hands met in the center aisle, a silent comfort in a hopeless situation. Hours passed without a word exchanged between them. During the second hour, a young soldier walked down the corridor, eyeing the Elves suspiciously.

As he approached, a slow, sardonic grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. Slowly and deliberately, he placed the heel of his boot on the ground. Next second, Elaneth felt pressure on her fingers and heard the sickly popping of displaced joints. The pressure released a moment later and the soldier laughed softly. She could feel the three dislocated joints in two of Haldir's fingers, but he pulled his hand away silently.

Elaneth pushed herself up from the ground, watching Haldir's movements closely. She flinched at the loud cracks as he shifted all three joints back into place in quick succession. He didn't make a sound, but a quiet sob escaped Elaneth's lips.

"Do not weep, Elaneth," Haldir said softly, although pain clogged his voice. "We have both faced worse and survived. This will be no different."

"I'm afraid of death, Haldir," Elaneth admitted. "I will not come back from the Halls of Mandos, not even to the eternal bliss of Valinor. I know that my spirit, once freed of my body, will not return to the flesh. What then becomes of us if you do wish to return to the living? Or if you do not perish at all?"

Haldir tightened his grip, his sore fingers gently stroking the back of her hand. "We are bound together for eternity. Wherever you go, I will follow. Be strong, Elaneth. It will all be over tomorrow. Tomorrow I will tell them everything."

She was about to protest, but could not find the questions or admonitions. She had never heard Haldir sound so forlorn nor look so disheartened, not even during the surgery to remove the bullet from his hip.

"It will end tomorrow," he whispered.


	36. The Two Faces of Salvation

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**"The Two Faces of Salvation"**

A slit of light broke through Elrohir's hazy dreams. The bright spots dancing behind his eyes turned into gleaming whiteness as he pried his eyelids apart. A great dark shape with a halo surrounding it obscured his vision, and for a moment, he was concerned that he'd gone blind. All he could sense was humid wind against his face and a foul odor floating into his nostrils.

When he blinked, the world came into focus. A long pink tongue was oozing drool all over his face in an attempt to wake him. He recoiled immediately, but the gigantic beast moved with him, still licking frantically. Finally, Elrohir pushed the dog off of his chest. He recognized the golden behemoth of a dog as Mellon, Colin Walker's mutt, as he wiped the drool off of his cheek.

A moment later, Elladan and Legolas appeared in front of him, both expressing their concern. Over their shoulders, Elrohir watched in awe and relief as Mithrandir and Alatar battled. Brown could never overpower White.

Mellon whimpered loudly and clamped his enormous teeth into Elrohir's jerkin. He tugged at the material, but misjudged his own strength and ripped the fabric clear up to the leather. Elladan patted the dog's head.

"I think he wants us to follow him."

"We cannot leave Mithrandir," Legolas said.

At that moment, a loud crash and the sound of cracking metal accompanied Alatar flying over his desk.

"I think Mithrandir is doing fine. He would not have brought Mellon if this mangy beast could not serve a purpose," Elladan said.

The three warriors glanced at the battling Istari before following Mellon out of Alatar's office. With weapons still out, the Elves followed the dog through the labyrinth of corridors and stairwells. The few Germans they met in the hallways were clerks or secretaries who quickly dashed out of their way upon seeing swords and bows poised.

Mellon trotted down the final stairwell that lead to an underground car park. Rows of identical black vehicles filled the majority of the lot. Mellon sat down promptly and refused to move. The dog looked resolutely westward, utterly ignoring the Elves who tried to make him move by pushing him, tugging on his collar, and teasing him with some beef jerky. Mellon eyed the jerky hungrily, but remained in one spot.

Almost a full minute after the Elves had entered the car park, the sound of a roaring engine and squealing tires echoed through the garage. A white Volkswagen traveling at breakneck speed skidded around the corner, the bumper swerving dangerously close to a cement pillar. The gears groaned and brakes shrieked in protest as the driver brought the car to a lurching halt in front of the Elves. Colin Walker's grinning face appeared in the window a moment later.

"Mae Govannen. Care for a lift?"

The Elves greeted the boy warmly and piled into the car. A moment later, the car was speeding around to the front of the Reich Chancellery with three Elves in the backseat, and Mellon planted firmly in Elrohir's lap with his head hanging out the back window.

Meanwhile, up in the Fuehrer's office, Gandalf made one last sweeping arch with his staff. Alatar cowered from the fury of the White Wizard, once his brother in the Order of Istari. They were enemies of Alatar's making now, and the Brown Wizard knew he could not win this battle. His only concern now was to escape with his life.

"Alatar, your staff is broken," Olórin announced.

The Brown Wizard dropped the cracked iron staff onto the Turkish carpet. His face twisted in anger at the sight of the ruined iron against the red carpet. The symbolism did not escape him. Blood and Iron had united Germany, and his iron staff now lay broken on the blood red carpet.

"We were supposed to be messengers," the Brown wizard hissed. "Pallando and I went into the East as such. But you, you were always a little more. Vigilante, politician, warrior. What are you now, Olórin? Assassin of the Valar?"

The White Wizard surveyed his counterpart calmly. "I am still a messenger. This time I come on behalf of Námo."

Alatar's face twisted again, this time in terror. His skin turned white, and he stumbled backwards, as if moving away from Olórin would mean he did not have to hear the message from Mandos.

"Your Doom has been decided," Olórin continued. "Námo has declared that you will remain in Arda until the end of this war. You started it and you will see it to its end. Only then will you be brought back to Aman and imprisoned in Mandos." Seeing the flicker of relief in the Brown Wizard's eyes, Olórin hurried on. "Do not think you can win the war and therefore escape your doom. Oromë and Tulkas have sent messengers disguised as men to every Allied nation and leader of your Occupied Territory. You will be defeated, and when you are, Eönwë and I will return to Arda and escort you to Aman and Mandos."

Alatar drew himself up to his full height. "The legacy I leave shall stretch beyond my time here in Arda."

"Indeed," the White Wizard said sadly, "it will. However, if Elaneth were here, she would have reminded you that the Jewish people had been hated and persecuted before you came along. Even if you had not developed this heinous plan to murder them all, prejudice would have continued just like it always has. So, you see, you have not won. You are stripped of power, certain of defeat in this war, and have not changed the social order. You've done nothing except put a black mark on Germany's otherwise noble history. I think that is what people will call your legacy: a black mark."

Olórin turned towards the door suddenly, as if he had just heard something very important. When he turned back to Alatar, he inclined his head slightly. "I will be seeing you in a few years, Alatar. When Germany is lying in ruins because of your waywardness, Eönwë and I will come for you."

With that, he left the office. No one dared to hinder the White Wizard as he swept through the halls of the Reich Chancellery. Security guards and diplomats shrunk back into the shadows as he passed, fearful of the mighty presence lingering around him. Gandalf paid no attention to the wicked men who feared him. He burst through the front door and hurried into the Volkswagen waiting for him.

"Leave it to Gandalf to come out the front door," Colin laughed as the wizard dropped into the passenger's seat.

The tires squealed as Colin slammed his foot down on the accelerator and raced through the streets of Berlin. It wasn't the adventure he'd imagined when he dreamt of being like Aragorn Elessar, but for a boy in the 1940's, it was a damn good adventure all the same.

"Do you have to go so fast?" Elrohir grumbled, his words muffled by Mellon's thick fur.

"Yes," Gandalf said simply. "Alatar has no powers of his own any longer, but he still has legions of men in his service. We must get out of Germany immediately."

Legolas jolted suddenly, as if drawn out of a very deep reverie. "But what about Elaneth? And Haldir? Surely they have entered Germany. We cannot leave them."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Colin looked at the Wizard intently, but Gandalf gazed out of the passenger window with sad and tired eyes.

"I had hoped that they were close by. We could have helped them then. I mentioned Elaneth to Alatar, and I saw a flicker in his eyes when I did so. He has spoken with her recently."

Legolas nodded. "He said … he said that he had talked with her and Haldir."

Colin looked suddenly ill. "Then they are already dead. Or worse, on their way to a Concentration Camp."

Silence descended upon the car for a long moment. Horrible images of the work camps that Elaneth had described surfaced in the Elves' minds. Haldir and Elaneth would slowly lose the will to live and succumb to death to find healing in Mandos.

"Radagast has come with me," Mithrandir said. "He will send birds and beasts to look for them. If they are able to be found, his friends will see to it. Elaneth is a dear friend of his, and he will not abandon her. He is a gentle soul, but he will unleash his fury to free Elaneth and Haldir from the work camp, if that is where they are. Fear not, my friends, they are both strong and wise. They will find a way back to Eryn Lasgalen."

"And what of Pallando?" Elladan questioned. "Will we go to Italy now?"

"I have already dealt with Pallando," the White Wizard said calmly. "The fool. You know, he tried to run away from me. He actually bolted for the door."

Colin turned sharply onto a dirt road and zoomed through the countryside. The passengers were jostled by the dips and bumps, but the boy never slowed the car. After ten minutes of driving through clouds of dust, the car emerged into a barren field surrounded on three sides by trees. Sitting at the far end of the field was a black and white airplane.

Andre Walker waved from the cockpit and fired up the engines as Gandalf and Colin led the Elves across the field. The plane was larger and more comfortable than the one they had taken from Ireland to England, and they felt much safer with Andre in the pilot's seat. Twenty minutes later, they were soaring through the sky and leaving Germany behind them.

They could not know that their safe escape had plunged two of their companions into the darkest and most dangerous situation of the entire journey. Hidden deep beneath the Reich Chancellery, cloistered away in the most remote corner of the Fuehrer's Bunker, Haldir and Elaneth remained imprisoned, the vestiges of Alatar's magic concealing their presence from their friends.

Alatar lifted his eyes slowly, surveying the demolished room around him. The red carpet appeared blurry so close to his eyes, and his neck strained to peer over the top of his desk. Slowly, with shaking arms, he pushed himself onto his knees. The ruined splinters of his delicately crafted staff cut into his knees, drawing droplets of blood to the surface of his now mortal skin and staining the brown military uniform he wore.

The full length mirror hanging by the window reflected a haggard man with cropped black hair and bottlebrush moustache. He reached out slowly, as if touching the looking glass could make him morph into the powerful Istar who had ruled Germany. Horror bubbled up in the pit of his stomach as the full implications of his defeat settled in.

He was no longer Alatar the Brown, master of shapes and hues. He had no staff with which to cast powerfully dark magic upon the world. He was Maia in only the most basic sense: his immortal spirit could never be extinguished except by Ilúvatar alone. He had no powers and no identity save for what he had created for himself.

He was only Adolph Hitler, Fuehrer of Germany, no more than any mortal man could achieve.

Adolph's eyes drifted to the window. It was a glorious summer day. Birds chirped merrily, and the wind carried the pungent scent of blooming flowers. People on the street went about their daily routine as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, as if their sole chance of victory in the war had not just been stripped of his powers. Horror turned to white hot anger and surged through Adolph's veins like an unstoppable fire.

He had tens of thousands of men at his beck and call: pilots … sailors … soldiers. He had conquered three-fourths of the Continent and was steadily beating down Britain and that annoying Númenorean Prime Minister Churchill. If it weren't for the damnable American President jutting his overlarge Númenorean nose into matters that did not concern him, Adolph could already be ruling half the world.

"Elves and Númenoreans," he hissed vehemently.

They were almost as bad as the tribe of Bór … almost. They had done this to him … stripped him of all his powers … ruined him …. He had no doubt that Olórin's words were true. Soon-too soon for an immortal's comfort-the Allies would sweep through his defenses and utterly destroy Germany. They would give part of his country to the Soviets, and Germany would never have a chance to become a great power while divided between East and West.

Adolph conceded defeat. With the breaking of his staff, Germany was beginning a slow descent to destruction. But that was some years away, and while Maiar did not measure time as shortly as men, or even Elves, Adolph had adapted to the ways of men during his many years living among them. He knew how much damage could be caused in the span of a few years. Mass destruction was nearly guaranteed with modern weapons. And Adolph had plenty of weapons.

He turned from the mirror slowly, the faintest of smiles twisting his lips maliciously. Yes, those weapons were awesome in power, but Adolph had an even better tool at his disposal than bombs and mustard gas.

He had knowledge and the courage to use it.

"Schwartz!" he barked, knowing that the man must be lingering somewhere nearby awaiting instructions.

The officer halted just inside the door and saluted abruptly. Adolph beckoned for him to close the door and sit down. The man's eyes drifted around the demolished office, but he refrained from asking questions. Adolph thought that Schwartz's pragmatism was one of his best qualities. This man had true courage. He tortured and condemned prisoners every day without even the slightest flicker of guilt or hesitation because it was for the good of all Germany that traitors and spies suffer. Adolph was deeply impressed by his unswerving loyalty and absolute mastery of conscience. This man would be able to do what no other soldier could.

"I want you to kill the Elves," Adolph began.

He paused, waiting for the man's reaction.

"Only tell me how you wish them killed, and I will do it," Schwartz replied.

"Excellent."

Adolph's mouth twisted again. He was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Elaneth Idhriniel was going to pay for her smart mouth and haughty attitude. She thought herself strong and courageous; Adolph would push her to her limits. She didn't hesitate to muddy Adolph's name; he would gladly return the favor.

The march warden who had so foolishly fallen prey to her charms would have to be punished as well. Alatar had noticed the strength of will and unyielding commitment to his station from the moment he had met the Elf. It would be harder, much harder, to break him, but it had to be done. With him beside her, Elaneth would never stop hoping for the healing of Estë in Valinor.

"As you know, Elves can die in battle or simply lose the will to live and diminish. If I order these two particular Elves directly killed, my immortal soul is as good as condemned to the Void for all eternity."

Schwartz tried very hard to look impassive, no matter how insane the Fuehrer sounded.

"These Elves will not simply give up and die. They're too arrogant and stubborn for that. They will have to be forced to fade. Summon every virile soldier at your disposal and let them have their way with the precious Elaneth. Make sure the march warden watches. When she's dead, send Haldir to Auschwitz with strict instruction that he does not go the gas chambers."

As Schwartz descended the stairs into the Bunker, he could not help but contemplate the heavy weight settling in his chest. He wasn't a particularly religious man. Interrogators couldn't contemplate morality and the afterlife and do their jobs properly. But Wilhelm Schwartz knew without a doubt that if he issued the order to rape the elleth and send the ellon to Auschwitz, he would be ordering his own eternal damnation.

As his shadow fell across the dank jail cell, the elleth looked up at him resolutely. She had known this would happen all along, Schwartz suddenly realized. For her, it hadn't been a matter of if, but when.

"I respect your bravery," he admitted.

"Enough to grant me one last request?" she asked in flawless German. Wilhelm nodded. "I'm a wood-elf. I need to die in the forest."

Schwartz watched her for a long moment. Her icy blue gaze cut deeply into his soul, tearing open the emotions he had so carefully walled up when he became an interrogator. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

"Does her Highness demand a specific location?"

She blinked slowly and said in a whisper, "As long as there are trees that remember me."


	37. Exodus

**The Trees Remember**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

**"Exodus"**

The caravan of wood-elves moved slowly along the jagged coastline of New England. They had been traveling for five days, covering the distance from Washington, D.C. to the northernmost tip of Maine. The procession wound through the countryside at an almost leisurely pace, but not one of the sixty-three Elves were joyful.

Oil lanterns and their own ethereal glow lit the way on the last moonless night of their journey. They were quickly approaching the harbor where King Thranduil had commissioned a fleet of Elven boats be constructed. By dawn, there would be no more Elves in Arda. As King Thranduil had commanded, every last Silvan Elf still dwelling in Arda had come to Eryn Lasgalen for the last departure of the Eldar from Middle-earth.

Two harmonious laments complemented one another. One song, a prayer to Yavanna, was for the exodus and the fate of Arda without Elves to care for the earth. The other song was sorrowful and resonating. It was a farewell to the two Elves who were not in the procession.

The royal Elves and last two faithful Istari rode behind the caravan on majestic horses borrowed from a farmer seven months past. Two of their number, Elladan and Elrohir, wore black capes and sang the sorrowful lament for their fallen comrades. Two others, the Istari, Mithrandir the White and Radagast the Gray, sat silently atop their horses neither sad nor fearful, for they knew the mysteries of Elven death and did not worry for their lost friends. Legolas mouthed the words to the song, but his voice seemed perpetually caught in his throat, for he had not uttered a sound since the departure from Eryn Lasgalen. The last two royals, the King and Queen of Eryn Lasgalen, rode close together, tears staining their perfect immortal faces.

Thranduil and his wife Adonniel had lost two sons in battle, been separated from another for over five thousands years, and lost a daughter in a brutal attack against ellyth and elflings. For six weeks they had waited at Eryn Lasgalen in hopes that Elaneth would return safely. But as summer turned to autumn, hope faded. There was no sign of Elaneth or Haldir. Radagast had searched Europe from Poland to England, Andre Walker had exhausted every option available to an Admiral, and Thranduil had called in every favor he'd ever earned from politicians around the globe. After six weeks, they were forced to admit that Haldir and Elaneth had gone to the Halls of Waiting.

The procession began the long descent down the steep cliffs not far from the place where Legolas, Haldir, and the sons of Elrond had moored in early March. Ten ships bobbed between the natural rock formations, loaded with enough supplies to carry the Elves across the Sundering Sea. They were not the graceful vessels of the Teleri, but they were sea-worthy and would not sink in the choppy northern waters. Thranduil glanced at his son, once again amazed at how much Legolas's realm in South Ithilien had aided the survival of the wood-elves. The Elves who had so diligently made these ships in six weeks time had once lived in Ithilien and had learned the skill from the shipwrights of Dol Amroth.

The royal Elves and Istari dismounted and instructed the horses to find their former master. The steeds trotted away, whinnying and turning occasionally to look at the Elves who had been their masters for such a short time, but following the command nonetheless.

An approaching automobile drew the Elves' attention away from the horses. They had avoided human contact for five days, weaving around cities and disappearing into the trees near busy motorways to keep out of sight. Thranduil insisted, and Mithrandir agreed, that humans should not see the last departure of the Elves. It would be cruel to reveal their presence only as they were leaving. It would be a disservice to let humans know there was still magic in the world and then leave without showing them how to harness it. Some men like Jeremiah, the farmer who had given the horses, and Ricky, the chauffer provided by the Transportation Office, would always remember the magic of the Elves, and the House of Elessar would never forget them. A memory of the Elves was all that Arda needed.

The black Hudson Commodore stopped some hundred feet in front of the Elves who continued descending the cliffs without a backwards glance at the car. Thranduil and Adonniel, however, had all but forgotten the boats and the journey across the Sea.

The passenger side door swung open and a tall, blond Elf climbed out of the small sports car. He surveyed wood-elves singing a lament for himself and his wife and breathed a sigh of relief that all three of his companions were safe. An elleth appeared from the driver's seat and joined her husband in front of the car. Despite the miraculous return of Haldir and Elaneth, there was no joyful welcome.

Elladan and Elrohir grabbed onto one another's arms, each struggling to support his twin while his own legs ceased to function properly. Although none of the other Elves would know for certain why Elaneth's fëa was dull and fading, the sons of Elrond did. Long ago, they had rescued their mother from a den of Orcs, and her fëa had been similarly torn. There was only one wound that could damage an elleth so badly.

Thranduil and Adonniel stared at their granddaughter helplessly. Elaneth had always been so full of life. Even the pain of her parents' deaths and tragedy at Eryn Ellvalan had fueled the fire of her soul. The elleth standing before them now bore no resemblance to that young, passionate elleth. She had aged in a matter of weeks, never to return to childhood fervor.

Haldir glared definitely at the Istari and royal Elves, as if daring them to comment on Elaneth's weakness. When they did not, he walked past them and began the descent down the cliffs behind the other wood-elves. As she had the entire journey home, Elaneth leaned heavily on his shoulders, her eyes permanently fixed on the ground.

As the boats filled, the sails were unfurled and a long line of gray Elven ships departed from the coastline of Maine. As the first fingers of dawn stretched over the eastern waters, the last ship bearing the royalty of Eryn Lasgalen and Imladris began the voyage. Haldir had taken Elaneth below and had not returned, but no one could find the heart to seek him out and question him.

Throughout the journey, Haldir appeared only briefly to fetch plates of food and cups of water. Every time he came up to the deck, it was with equally full plates. Once, Legolas almost commented on his concern for Elaneth's health, but he shut his mouth before the words left his throat. He did not know what had bruised his niece's soul, but from the darkness lurking in Haldir's eyes every time Elaneth's name was mentioned, he did not think he wanted to know.

On the last day before their arrival in Valinor, Haldir sat down to dinner with Thranduil and Adonniel, Legolas, the Istari, and the sons of Elrond. He told them a vague story about their escape from Alatar's personal prison. He explained how he had overpowered the three men making him watch Elaneth's torture; how he had ripped the cell door off in a fit of fury; how he had carried Elaneth to safety and nursed her back to health; and how she had instructed him to telephone a man called Winston Churchill (who spoke fluent Sindarin) and ask for his assistance (which he gave immediately and without question). There were gaping holes in his story, such as how they had walked out of the Fuehrer's Bunker after killing three guards, but Haldir refused to answer those questions. He said only, "There was a promise made, and it was fulfilled."

Haldir disappeared below deck for the rest of the night, leaving the others to consider his story in hushed voices. Around midnight, when Elladan and Elrohir flatly refused to give their opinion on what had happened in Germany, the discussion ended abruptly while Queen Adonniel openly sobbed into her husband's shoulder.

Hours later, in the cabin below, Haldir perched on the edge of Elaneth's bed, gently smoothing back the errant tresses of inky hair from her forehead. She blinked slowly, the only sign that she was awake.

"There is something you need to see," he said softly.

"I can't get up."

"Yes, you can."

"I don't want to."

The march warden's brow furrowed as he tried desperately not to give into the grief that had threatened to consume him since the Nazis had forced him to watch the violation of his wife. She needed his strength, not his tears.

"You've lasted this long. You can walk to the deck."

Elaneth nodded lazily and allowed Haldir to help her out of bed. He wrapped a warm cloak around her shoulders and led her up the stairs to the deck. The North Atlantic had been replaced by tranquil crystal clear water painted pink by the rising sun. Elaneth audibly gasped at the sight before her eyes.

She had read Peregrin Took's account of Mithrandir's words during the siege of Minas Tirith: 'The gray rain curtain of this world shall pass and all turns to silver glass. And beyond, a far green country with a swift sunrise.' She had memorized the words and clung to the hope that she would one day see Aman.

Before her eyes, the world changed, and she suddenly realized how dull the summer leaves and cerulean sky had looked before. Everything sparkled with an ethereal light. It was as if the sky was not really the sky but a blanket of sapphires, and the water not really wet, but a million pearls glistening in the sun. In the distance, a rolling green coastline, more lush than the fullest tree canopy, welcomed the Silvan Elves to Eldamar.

As the ships pulled into port, the Teleri emerged from their white homes built on the cliffs and by the water's edge, singing a song of greeting in their native tongue. Elaneth's hand was covering her mouth as she observed the world around her. She did not doubt that she would find healing in Valinor, for already she had forgotten the weight of her wounds.

The Teleri made way for a large group of Elves walking towards the dock. Elaneth nearly stumbled and fell into the water as she scanned their faces. Haldir caught her just in time, but she barely knew what had happened. She felt as if she had walked into a history textbook.

Leading the group was Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn the Wise. Just behind them walked Círdan the Shipwright with his long silver beard. There was Glorfindel the Balrog-slayer, Finarfin, Gildor Inglorion, and Elrond Peredhel.

Elaneth's eyes fixed upon the final Elf, an elleth with shining silver hair. There was not a great deal in the history books about this particular elleth. She was usually a footnote to her powerful mother and wise husband, but at that moment, there was no more important Elf in Valinor than Celebrían.

For the first time in weeks, Elaneth's eyes lifted and she gazed directly into Celebrían's serene face. The other elleth paused, as if struck by the same sorrowful recognition as Elaneth had been only a moment before. From the corner of her eye, Elaneth saw Lord Elrond pause as well and then bow his head solemnly as Elladan and Elrohir had done in Maine.

Lady Celebrían moved forward more quickly than the others. She did not greet her sons as Elaneth had expected her to, but walked directly up to Elaneth and enveloped her in a tight embrace. For a moment, she thought about pulling away, but the connection forged between the fëar of the ellyth was too strong. They were perhaps the only ellyth to ever survive such an ordeal, and Elaneth could not pull away from genuine understanding.

"Come with me," Lady Celebrían said. "I shall show you to the Gardens of Lórien where you can find rest and healing. Sárëawë arrived yesterday, and he has spoken with Estë and Irmo. They are waiting for you."

Elaneth glanced at Haldir, who nodded silently. He tried to smile, but it did not reach his eyes. He released her hand as Celebrían led her down the path and past the crowd of Elves waiting to welcome home their Silvan kindred.

"I am called Lady Celebrían, daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel."

"I know. I am a perpetual student. Your sons often teased me for it."

Celebrían smiled broadly at the mention of her sons. "I imagine they did. When you wake, I'll show you my husband's library. He hasn't had a young Elf to teach in a great many years. I think he would enjoy his library being put to good use again."

There was a long pause before Celebrían spoke again.

"May I ask your name, child?"

Elaneth did not answer immediately. She had forgotten that Elves addressed themselves with their father's name as an epitaph. Over the years, she had chosen many names for herself for the sake of assimilating into the world of men. She had almost forgotten the most important part of her name: her parents' names.

"Elaneth," she said, and then paused before adding the epitaph.

It was as if a great wave of understanding had suddenly washed over. She was not the daughter of Celebdil and Aerlinn, not really. The name simply did not suit everything she had seen and done in her life. Like the Elves of old who had passed through darkness and despair, she had emerged triumphant. Like Glorfindel and Elrond and Celeborn, she had seen more and knew more than her parents. She was beyond a parental epitaph. Mithrandir, the wisest of the Maiar, had foreseen this at the time of her birth and given her a fitting title to use as a second name.

"I am Elaneth Idhriniel."

**The End**

* * *

Dear Readers,

That time has come when the story must end. You've been a wonderful audience and your reviews have meant so much to me. I put you through a lot: delayed updates, cliffhangers, a romance that isn't resolved until Chapter 30 …. I hope it was worth it.

I've been asked quite a few times about a sequel. I won't give a definite answer right now. Some bunnies are bouncing around in my head, but a lot of my plots come to nothing. If the story types itself without giving me grief, you will see a sequel here sometime in the future. If not, well … at least there's no cliffhanger, right?

And lastly, I want to thank all of my Beta-readers from start to finish. I exhausted a lot of you, I think. This is my public apology. Annie103: Prologue-Chapter 5; Silvae: Chapter 5-15; SilverMoonLady: Prologue-Chapter 4; Elandriel: Chapter 10-21; LucyTia: Chapter 21-30.

I thank you again.


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